Ruby and Sapphire
by Leona2016
Summary: If you held the key to a certain dwarf King's heart...what would you do? (continued only on AO3)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've been writing this silly (and silly being very much the operative word here) fangirl/Thorin story to get through my writer's block, I'm already posting it on AO3 but figured I might as well do it here (which means I had to change the you-pov to I-pov seeing FFnet does not like that, feel free to pick whichever version you prefer ;p). Enjoy~**

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 1**

Bags filled with comfort food start to cut in my wrists as I rummage in my backpack for the key to my flat, as usual it ended up at the bottom where the useless items always seem to hang out just to make me lose the things I really _do_ need in life. At first I'm too lazy to get my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans to literally shed some light on the badly timed disappearance, but after I've taken out not one, not even two but three old lip balm sticks, a handful of sticky chocolate bar wrappers, a tissue that's obviously been used but not properly disposed of, a leaking pen _and_ the world's tiniest teddy bear that really has no reason to be there sentimental softie, I finally decide to be less of a stubborn idiot. The moment my hand reaches behind me to get my phone, though, I catch a glimpse of something metally that the buzzing and flickering streetlight overhead reflects off of.

I bury my arm up to my elbow in the backpack, close my fingers around the solid object at the bottom once my fingertips bump into it and cautiously retrieve it while feeling irrationally relieved it didn't bite me. In my palm now lies a key. Only it's not my key. It was heavier. Bigger. Very geometric in its design and with squiggly lines and triangles carved into the metal. It was very familiar. As a fangirl I'd recognize it anywhere, it'd be embarrassing if I didn't. The thing was though that I absolutely had no idea how it got there and I was pretty sure I didn't get myself an early birthday present and then forgot all about it. Which left but one option…

Was this it?! The moment I had been waiting for? Was I about to be transported to Middle Earth? Was I destined to escape from the clutches of my boring life and instead become the one previously insignificant person that would turn into an amazing heroine and save those three dwarves not because I cared that much about seeing the rightful king on the throne of Erebor but because he and his nephews happened to be too hot to die so young, and more importantly two of them simply too _single_ to get skewered like a pair of roasted pigs and my imagination instantly sets to work in cooking up very enticing images of just how grateful the king and his heir would be to me once I saved their sexy butts…

I sigh dreamily then look down from the starry sky, excitement flooding me as my eyes find _the_ key still in my hand and I decide there and then to do the dumbest thing possible: I try out a key on a door I know is my door with a key I know is not my key to said door. And it fits. Of course it does.. _Wait what_? It fits? It _actually_ fits..?! There is no time to have the craziness of what just happened sink in when I turn the large key with both of my hands and the door emits a deep and muffled _click_. I pull the key back out, drop it in my backpack and then I really can't resist placing my hands on the door's surface any longer and push like I've seen Thorin do countless of times. The jaw-dropping sight that meets my eyes make me stumble forward like a drunk into the welcoming embrace of what I'm sure is the friggin' Shire. Okay. So it's not the Lonely Mountain which I sort of secretly hoped it would be 'cause that would've saved me a whole lot of walking but still, I would know those rolling hills and little rivers anywhere even now night had fallen and a myriad of little lights peep out wistfully from round windows in the equally round hobbit holes that dot the idyllic landscape.

I yank out my earphones to let in the sounds of crickets, far away laughter and snippets of lively conversations drifting towards me on the pleasantly warm night air. When I register the dull thud of the door closing behind me it is too late to do anything about it. I stare, disbelievingly but insanely happy all the same, at a large, green round door (painted a week ago I don't doubt) with a shiny bronze handle and a rune glowing a sickly blue scratched at the bottom. Kneeling down to admire it like a more educated person would a Monet (including letting out a tiny gasp of pure joy), I notice the rope dangling way above me. Then I see the bell at the end of it. Drawn to it like a bee to honey I can't resist the temptation, get to my feet again and pull with all that I've got. The moment a loud jingle resonates within my skull (I was standing a little too close and on tiptoes too) I actually hesitate between staying standing on the doorstep or running away and hide in the bushes so I can repeat the process to annoy the crap out of Bilbo. Before I can make up my admittedly childish and a tad evil mind I hear the patter of light (hairy?) feet and the door opens with a loud, protesting creak.

Bilbo whimpers as he sees me. He actually _whimpers_. Then he grumbles something to himself but I catch the words 'busybody' and 'pointy' and I don't need to be a genius to figure out where Mr. Baggins is suggesting a certain wizard can stick his hat. The hobbit plasters a very unconvincing smile on his face, mumbles a very disgruntled 'at your service' and swings the door wide to let me in.

"Do come in, Miss." He presses me bluntly and with obvious reluctance and when I'm about to open my mouth he holds up his hand in a tired, irritated kind of way, "Oh, don't bother introducing yourself. The sooner this is over and all of you are on your way the better. You'll find your companions further down the hall. I'm afraid they've already emptied the pantry, surprised they haven't started eating the furniture yet, but perhaps they're saving it for dessert, or breakfast! Ha!" The hobbit let out a weird and delusional sort of squeal before adding with undisguised suspicion and frustration, "For the past hours they've been talking non-stop. _Plotting_ …" His nose wrinkles in heartfelt disgust at this.

"Something about a dragon, a treasure hoard and a certain map and key?" I guess smartly. _Oh I was so going to enjoy this gift of foresight_.

"Y- Yes." Bilbo stammered, a little surprised, then added sourly, "All Gandalf's idea, no doubt. Though he's lost this key apparently and the dwarves are none too pleased about it." He explains, making my gut churn in sudden guilt. _Oh_. So it really was _the_ key. I clutch my backpack a little closer to myself hoping the hobbit won't notice. Luckily he is extremely vexed with the arrival of these unexpected visitors (which technically now includes me) that he doesn't and he simply pinches the bridge of his nose as if to stop a headache from plaguing him too.

"Just follow the noise.." Bilbo then vaguely waves in the direction he wants me to go and disappears in what I assume is the sitting room for an orangey glow of a fire comes from it and I catch a glimpse of a thick rug in front of it. I remain standing a little forlorn on the doormat catching the groan of an armchair as the hobbit sits down in it, the chink of a decanter and a wine glass making contact followed by a desperate sort of slurping sound and some more dark mutterings that involve a wizard and a whole range of pointy objects.

When I hear the booming and boisterous voices of what had to be the thirteen dwarves I was dying to meet I spur myself into action. I rather carelessly slam the door shut behind me and start down the tunnel-like hall that snakes its way further into the smial where I soon stumble upon the real eye-opener I'd been looking forward to. Gathered before me are my favorite dwarves in all of their rowdy, rugged, hairy glory… There in the far corner sit those lovely Durin brothers (a very fine pair of strapping lads indeed), and across from them Ori with his too cutsey fringe is nervously twiddling with his thumbs as he sits hemmed in between his older siblings, one sipping wine with a bored air, the other running a careful hand over his starfish hairstyle. And then there were Glóin, Oín, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur, seemingly eating and shouting at each other at the same time if the amount of crumbs in their beards and pieces of chicken and potato flying from their mouths and spraying across the table were anything to go by. Which left Dwalin doing his arms-across-chest-and-bristling-whiskers act while Balin seems to have just face-palmed himself as if he only just now remembered he had voluntarily allowed himself to be surrounded by the odd collection of the obviously not so bright crayons in the box. That leaves Thorin, looking all majestic and superior in his fur and leather getup and currently engaged in the noble sport of verbally beating to a pulp a certain gray robed wizard we all know.

… _Holy crap this was really happening_!

For a moment I simply mentally jump for joy as I take in the scene before me but then all of the dwarves' heated arguing stills instantly when they spot me and even Thorin and Gandalf (the latter obviously towering over the former though he seemed not in the least intimidated by that) pause their shouting match to snap their heads in my direction. I wasn't necessarily planning on a dramatic entrance but with the tense silence and the fact I'm still half hidden in the shadows it's too tempting a chance to pass up and I clear my throat importantly.

"My friends, look no further for you have found your burglar..!" I state melodramatically, taking a step forward with my hands on my hips and only just repressing a gleeful 'keeeee!' as my audience gawk at me as if someone hit the pause button. _Damn, and that even rhymed too_! Awesome first impression: _check_!

I elbow passed an obviously stunned Thorin and worm my way to Balin, spreading my arms wide as if in greeting, broad smile splitting my face, "Ready for that contract when you are."

Before the old dwarf can so much as blink Thorin's growling voice bursts out, " _This_ is the burglar you had in mind?"

I slowly swivel around to face him, not liking the particular emphasis he put on that first word and even less the finger he's jabbing in my direction almost poking my eye out too. Gandalf only manages a dumbfounded and incoherent stuttering, eyes flicking between me and the dwarven king, judging by the saggy lines in his face and the nervous twitching of a bushy brow I guess he's been having a pretty lousy evening so far.

"Suggesting the hobbit to join us was bad enough but by my beard _she_ is most definitely not coming-" Thorin rages on but I cut him short, " _She_ ," I repeat with the same acidity, "happens to be standing right next to you and has a name." Oh. Crap. Do I? Well, I have, obviously, it's just I'm not sure if it would fit my new life. Besides, using my own name would be so incredibly boring now that I actually had a chance to start over..

"And what would that be?" Thorin arches a brow at me, sounding not even close to caring.

Quick. I just had to think of one. A cool, yet elegant and beautiful name that would knock this grumpy dwarf right off his socks.

"Ehm.. I'm… I.." I desperately look around for inspiration, highly aware of all the eyes trained on me as I search all of their dumbstruck faces for ideas.

"Yes..?" Thorin presses me, clearly growing impatient.

"My name is.. Um.. Arandiel.." I drawl as I make it up then instantly screw up my face and shake my head, "No, wait, that sounds lame, way too long, and… _elvish_." I finish in a tone of disgust, nose wrinkling too as if I smelled something bad. I could swear Thorin's mouth quirked at this for a split second but then his lips are back to being the taut line they were and he simply continues to glare at me.

 _Shit_. I was running out of time. My mind is racing through every name that had a middle earth-y ring to it and yet not one sounds like the right one. Still thinking hard with a rising sense of panic not exactly helping my efforts, my eyes stray to a red and seducing sparkle and I stare mesmerized at a ring around Gloín's stubby finger.

"Ruby.." I realize I have said it out loud when the group of dwarves finally unfreeze from their initial shock (one I seemed to have skipped but then I was confident I would find the time for a nervous breakdown later) and start to whisper to each other.

"Ruby?" Thorin repeats, not holding back on disdain, "You are named after a precious stone?"

Great. Looked like I was stuck with that one, it didn't even remotely sound impressive, more like the professional name of a wrinkled and shriveled porn star that refused to retire. Awesome... Well done, _Ruby_. And then there was something about the tone in which Thorin had spoken that made it pretty clear he thought there was absolutely nothing precious (or red for that matter) about me to justify the name.

"And you are a trained thief?" the dwarf king asked doubtfully, almost sneering even at the notion.

"Yes." I lie confidently.

"And why would we hire you and not Mr. Baggins?"

 _Improvise_ , _improvise_ , _improvise_..! I chant to myself, once again racking my brain, _begging_ it to help me out. As I clutch my backpack I feel a familiar shape at the bottom and know what I have to say to get to go on this quest, all the way to Erebor, and I wasn't going to settle for anything short of that.

"Well?" Thorin growled.

I straighten and square my shoulders a little, taking a deep breath and praying the poker face I practiced in front of the mirror for reasons that don't need to be disclosed here would survive the sparks shooting out of those insanely blue eyes- _Wow_. That color was just.. And that long, black hair, short beard and fiercely furrowed brows were just.. _He_ was just.. The dwarf I showed every sign of drooling over cleared his throat in annoyance, boot tapping on the ground and rousing me rather cruelly from your epiphany.

"Right.. Um. That's easy actually."

His brows went up even higher though his boot froze mid-tap.

"You will hire me because _I_ happen to have the key that goes with that map."

I point needlessly at the wad of parchment Thorin has clutched in a clenched fist and my statement is met with a complete and heavy silence. All the dwarves exchange looks ranging from outrage to confusion to downright despair, though no one looks as horrified as Thorin does. His eyes (those brilliant, crystalline, sapphire orbs, I muse dreamily… _oh stop it_!) widen and he simply stares at me in a way that ensures me he will bite. _Game_. _Set_. And….. _match_!

I triumphantly lean sideways, bum perching on the corner of the table as I lean over to Balin, arm slung cordially around his shoulders as I wink at him, "So... Where do I sign?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Digital hugs to Arianna Le Fay, KelseyHeart & MrsTChrist for putting this silly story on your favs list! Digital kisses to Hymlume, Sugarplumfairy77, and again KelseyHeart & MrsTChrist for hitting the follow button! Thanks! Also, a special shout-out to my very first reviewer for this story: Thanks Guest for leaving me a review, I'm glad it made you giggle, I hope the second chapter will trigger the same response haha! ;) Enjoy~ _

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 2**

I'm too busy deciding whether I'll go for an overly fancy twirly and curly signature or stick with a simple, sharp-angles and straight-lined one when Thorin's stern voice keeps Balin from letting go of the quill in his hands when my fingers are already pulling on its feathers.

"Where is it now?"

"Where is what?"

My playing dumb act makes Thorin cross his arms demonstratively over his chest, "The key you supposedly are in possession of."

"I _am_. Well, I _was_." I hastily adjust that statement, although I had absolutely no objection (really, none whatsoever) to the dwarf doing a full body search, I couldn't afford to have him find it on me. It was my only ticket to go on this trip, after all.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Thorin bit out, not amused in the least by my enigmatic reply.

"That means, master dwarf," he cringes at my wording and I'me sure next he will have fumes shooting from his flaring nostrils and flames spouting from his mouth, "that I had it but I've hidden it."

"Where?" he demands.

"Somewhere safe. And I'm the only one that knows where it is." Both true. I didn't dare lie more than strictly necessary to the dwarven king who also happened to have been my all-time hero and personal obsession for quite a while now…okay, basically since the movies came out, I never fancied him this much when it was just the book version.

"Tell me." Thorin commanded and the very attractive authority he oozes is very tempting but I really, _really_ , want to come along and that knowledge was the only leverage I had.

"Sorry, no can do. But I will give it to you, in due time. Promise!" I end cheerily, my tone a glaring mismatch with his look of fury.

Thorin half turns to address Gandalf, no doubt to cross reference my vague story, "Is this true? Did you give the key to this-" he catches my eye and stops himself short at my indignant frown, "Did you give my father's key to Miss Ruby?"

"Well.. uh.. Now.. I-I.." the wizard stammers incoherently, prompting me to answer that question instead, "He didn't, I stole it. Trained thief remember." I give Gandalf a blatantly obvious and very visible 'no one with a brain will buy this but I've got your back buddy!' type of thumbs up.

"You successfully robbed a _wizard_?" Thorin asks in a tone of blunt disbelief but I latch on to the hint of respect and awe that I'm sure are in there too… _Somewhere_.

"Yep!" I exclaim happily.

Thorin looks at Gandalf for confirmation, " _She_ outwitted _you_?" and completely ignores my insulted 'Hey!'.

"I wouldn't quite put it like that.. But.. It's true that I might not have always kept my eye on the key, and.. Well, at my age it's not easy to keep track of everything that's in your pocket.. Ahem.." the wizard mumbles before he succumbs to one of his conveniently timed coughing fits, simultaneously shrugging innocently and smiling awkwardly at Thorin with a strangely pained expression as if he was sitting on a pincushion. Or maybe he was just suffering from hemorrhoids.

"Believe me now?" I probe self-assuredly, really not wanting to dwell on Gandalf's pitiable condition.

"No." comes Thorin's curt and immediate reply.

"Oh."

When the awkward silence has stretched beyond at least five seconds I open my mouth to try again, "How about now-"

"Why did you not take the map also?"

 _Hmmm_ … Looks _and_ brains. Damn, he really _was_ the complete package!

"Well?"

"Well…" I repeat and draw out the word to give myself some thinking time before I start the explanation I have to make up on the spot, "Insurance. To make certain that Gan the Man here would be the one to pass it on to you and ensure his involvement in the quest seeing you'll need all the help you can get. And I took the key likewise to book myself a spot on the trip in case you wouldn't believe I can pull off what you're about to hire me to do."

The tall, proud, raven haired and fierce dwarf (was it too early to go all poetic seeing I only just met the guy or was I totally justified here..?) looked like my reasoning didn't make a lot of sense to him but the fact I claimed to have successfully stolen something from a wizard who luckily was too senile too remember whether I truly did or not (I really had no clue how I ended up with that key after all) had made an impression that may just sway his decision in my favor. Then again I was pretty sure he was smart enough to recognize blackmail when he saw it regardless of how I had tried to wrap that fact up all nicely and snug with a pretty bow and lots of glitter on top. Thorin was silent for a moment pondering his next move, then he narrowed his eyes. Here it came. The final test. Pass it and I was in.

"What does it look like?"

 _Pop_! There goes the cork, flying in a nice arch and bouncing right off the dwarf king's sharp and sculpted nose. Time for bubbles people, I sooooo got this one!

I nudge Balin next to me, holding out your hand and wriggling my fingers impatiently for the quill in his hand that was still hovering over the contract that should've been Bilbo's but would be mine. And soon too. I turn the parchment around and start scratching on it, not much later holding up my doodle proudly in front of Thorin's moody face as if he was my kindergarten teacher. First his eyes remain fixed on mine in nothing short of exasperated mistrust then they flit down, widen instantly and shoot back to mine.

"On the dotted line will do, I presume?" I practically crow in my victory, then turn around the parchment, not bothering to read the small print (or any of it really) and write my new name with a lot of deliberate flourish and display. It ends up looking a little squiggly and amateurish but I'm proud of it all the same, after all, I've just signed the contract that officially starts my new life... _aaaah, this was crazy!_

Not wanting to be overcome by emotions (there'll be plenty of time for that later) I offer the quill to his lofty Grumpiness, "Your turn."

Thorin grudgingly snatches it out of my grasp and signs with annoyed, jerky movements and I can't help but lean over his shoulder and stare at him jotting down his perfectly legendary name with those angry strokes. My eyes are glued to it as the ink is being soaked up by the yellowed parchment even after he finishes and clears his throat meaningfully at my proximity. Reluctantly I take a step back and watch how Thorin shoves the contract towards Balin, throws me and the wizard a particularly dirty look and then stomps away in the direction of the cozy sitting room.

"Yes, perfect timing, Thorin! Who else is in the mood for some humming and acapella singing?" I suggest enthusiastically to the group of dwarves at large, "And I have some snacks to go with that too, it'll be just like a pajama party but then with really small, chubby people with axes and beards.." I frown at myself, not sure if that offended anyone but then opt quickly moving on as my best bet, "So…who wants food? Follow me!"

The moment I lift up the plastic bags spilling with junk food for all to see it finally creates the excited buzz I had been waiting for. The dwarves troop eagerly after me through the long and winding hall and Bilbo snaps his head up as he startles awake with our invasion, apparently the brooding king had not made quite so much noise when entering unlike me and my raucous gang. The hobbit shoots to his feet, wobbles a little unsteadily and then teeters tipsily to what I assume is his bedroom, the door to which he shuts with a loud bang.

Everyone found a comfortable spot to lounge and soon pipes were lit, lame jokes were cracked, belly laughs were laughed and I distributed my snacks feeling like friggin' Santa. The sight of the dwarves munching away happily on caramel popcorn, nachos and cupcakes brings a huge smile to my face. It also makes me feel triumphant for my peace offerings are working like a charm. _Well_ …. Barring my-little-thundercloud (obviously) who was leaning on his elbow against the mantelpiece, staring rather grave and sulkily into the crackling fire.

But I paid him no further attention when the first catchy tune filled the room after Bofur took out his fiddle. Other dwarves joined him with musical instruments of their own and I unashamedly clap along with happy ditties, upbeat melodies and sappy ballads and only freeze in my movements when it suddenly grows quiet and _he_ starts humming. The powerful tremor of Thorin's deep, baritone voice as he sings makes it hard for me to contain a scream of sheer rapture that's tingling on my lips. As I listen to the tear-jerking lyrics and picture misty mountains, burning lanterns and long forgotten gold my eyelids grow heavier by the minute and next thing I know I drift off to sleep.

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Someone yanking on my sleeve makes me wake up hours later from my dreamless doze to a sunlit sitting room with a loud and angry "I'm not a dwarf!" that bursts out of my lungs as if they had been waiting for my brain to voice that unhappy (and belated) conclusion. My sudden revival that could've equaled if not paled any self-respecting zombie causes Ori to squeak like a little mouse and scurry away, not thinking twice about abandoning his attempt to wake me for breakfast the enticing smell of which only now reaches my nose.

There is a series of coughs that make me turn my attention to the smoke-rings enveloped wizard sitting in a flowery armchair in the corner nibbling on his pipe and something that could only be hope slyly enters my head. Maybe I could still fix the fact that I crossed over to Middle Earth in my own far from athletic, wholly unspectacular and extraordinarily ordinary body, not even wearing my best clothes either but a pair of worn jeans, old sneakers with frayed shoelaces and a black hoody.

"Gandalf! May I just say how lovely you look this fine morning?" I start your ass-kissing, jumping to my feet and marching over to his little tucked away corner with the most radiant smile I can handle without actually breaking my jaw. He greets me with a sour look on his wrinkled face and a disinterested puff of smoke but I'm not discouraged in the least.

"How are those magic juices, still flowing okay? Must be closer to a trickle at your age, am I right? Listen," I lean closer assuming a serious and conspiratorial air as I drop all humor from my tone, also completely missing the dangerous twitch of Gandalf's bushy brows as my insults sink in, "if you need some practice, I'm more than happy to volunteer. I bet that staff is getting rusty so how about you transform me into, say, a tough-looking, ass-kicking, wildly attractive dwarrowdam and with your reputation restored and my life span tripled it's nothing short of win-win. Whadda ya say?"

The wizard rises to his feet looking highly affronted and a tad murderous as he exhales a cloud of smoke down at me and storms off. That would be a no then. _Damn_ , _damn_ , _damn_ …!

"Mind the head!" I call after him despite the fact I'm deeply disappointed but not really surprised he won't help me. There is a loud thud and a groan of genuine pain when Gandalf bumps right into the low hanging beam.

"I did tell you." I remark dryly, earning me a death glare before the wizard curses under his breath and disappears. Great. Iwas stuck looking like.. Well, like _me_.

"I should have thought burglars needed sustenance just as much as the rest of us.." a booming sort of voice states challengingly and I swivel around to find Thorin leaning casually against the doorframe that divides the sitting room from the kitchen. It takes me a moment to translate that fancy word in the middle of his sentence but then understanding finally dawns on me. Right, he was semi-ordering me to get my ass in gear and get breakfast before I would leave on an empty stomach. _Hmm_. That was sort of nice- Wait a minute… I pick up the covert flick of his eyes to my backpack still lying on the sofa I fell asleep on before they avert back to me. That sneaky dwarf had very cleverly tried to separate me from it for closer inspection as I was bound to leave it in my hunger driven rush. _Huh_. _Pretty ballsy_ … _but oh so futile_.

I let out the most indignant sounding 'hmpf!' I've ever managed to produce, pointedly go back for my backpack, sling it around my shoulder and swing it behind me the moment I pass him so it hits him full in the stomach and Thorin doubles over with a grunt that's like music to my ears at the moment. Struck by a sudden idea I stop mid-step though and take a few back so I stand next to him again on the threshold.

He straightens, arm clutched around his middle and practically jumping to a more battle-ready pose when I lift my hand, hold it horizontally and flat above my temple as if I'm about to salute at him and then let it trace an invisible line to a spot inches away from his scalp. _Hmm_. _Whadda you know_.. I was actually roughly the same height. So either I did turn into a dwarf but didn't notice it or I'd been even smaller all this time than I had thought (and others had reminded me on countless occasions of) I, in fact, was. Either way. Possibilities. Definitely possibilities. No risks of a back/neck hernia should I ever feel inclined to kiss the dwarf in front of me. Ahem… _Why was that the example I thought of_? _More importantly, why was that the_ only _advantage I could come up with at the prospect of blending in with other members of the quest height-wise_?

 _Anyhow_ …..

I had better things to do right now (eat, pee, pack, pee, get myself the cutest pony, pee, and then leave. Maybe run back to pee one more time. In that order.), so I head straight for the chaos that is breakfast with a shrug: there's no point in losing myself so soon in those two, bluest of all blue puddles staring seethingly back at me.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for hitting that fav/follow button: makes my day when you do! Special digital hugs to LoveMeSomeFili and Hymlume for reviewing the previous chapter(s): you guys rock! 333 Please enjoy~**

LoveMeSomeFili: Yes! Looks like he met his match alright! ;P Being the stubborn dwarf that he is I wonder how long it'll take him to admit it...

Hymlume: So know the feeling, haha! ;) I'm thrilled you're enjoying it; snickering and looking like an idiot in public because of it would be my evil goal for writing this...muhahaha! Also thank you again for being the first to review, disguised as a guest or not ;p

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 3**

I did _not_ get to ride the cutest pony. The dwarves duped me into selecting the oldest, smelliest and slowest of the pack…uh…troop… _herd_? My displeasure had been a source for great amusement as a result. To make matters worse, apart from being even more stubborn than the dwarves themselves (learned from the best!), the dratted animal tried to head-butt me every chance it got and when it wasn't busy doing that (for a change) it would sneak up from behind after camp was set up and chew on my hair. To top it all off he'd also habitually kick me awake none too softly with his front hoof because he fancied a midnight (read 4 a.m.) snack and he couldn't reach those apples stuffed in the saddlebags but he knew I could. To be honest he made me feel like a damn house-elf when he did that, somehow I was always waiting on him hand and foot (should that be hoof and hoof?) and he had no respect whatsoever for my personal space either. But then each time I'd got ready to finally give him that stern talking to, one look into those droopy, large, chocolatey brown eyes and fluttering, long lashes and I'd forgive him for all his acts of insubordination.

That wasn't to say I wasn't thrilled to have a night of undisturbed sleep ahead of me the moment my little group of dwarves and the wizard entered Bree an hour ago. While Bob (no excuse there, coming up with names was clearly not my thing) was enjoying some nice R&R in the stables of the inn of the Prancing Pony I was looking forward to a decent meal, a warm room and soft bed. It had taken a little over or just under a week (the days on the road had been so similar it was hard to keep track) to reach the squalid excuse for a town but after all the hardships (read mud on my sneakers, a splinter in my pinky and no toilet paper) I'd had to suffer already in that short time I thought it was a wonder of architecture, the very pinnacle of civilization, and felt more than deserving of the steaming plate of stew set down before me.

All the days had been pretty much interchangeable what with the fixed routine of riding then camping, followed by riding and camping and (prepare for a shock) _more_ riding and camping, and the transition from living in a world in which I was surrounded by all the convenience modern technology could offer to one deprived off all forms of luxury had hit me harder than I had anticipated. Still, I had successfully smuggled along a stash of 21st century Earth candy with which I openly bribed the dwarves to befriend me and that tactic was paying off. Fíli and Kíli only took a handful of sticky toffees, Bofur turned out to be a sucker for lollipops and Bombur was a total peppermint addict by the time we got to Bree. And then there was Ori. Sweet, innocent little Ori. Had he wet his pants at the sight of me not too long ago, his fear had been no match for the almighty, strawberry flavored, chewing gum I had offered him. The young dwarf was in fact rapidly becoming a veritable champion in popping huge pink bubbles much to the chagrin of Dori though I suspected his unforeseen talent had awakened the rebellious streak in him and I loved the glint of pure joy in his beady eyes every time he came up to me for more.

I pause and hold my spoon full of hot stew mid-air, pursing my lips and blowing hard to cool it off so I wouldn't burn my tongue anymore than I already had when Nori sits down opposite me. This didn't necessarily have to be a bad thing seeing I still had to win him over and this might provide me with a chance to do just that (I hoped those left over crispy M&Ms would do the trick), but I also knew my fellow thief had likely come over with an agenda of his own. More than once I had seen him discussing something with Thorin, heads close together and acting all secretive, throwing furtive glances in my direction as well as at the backpack I was resolved to never let out of my sight. I didn't doubt the two were scheming against me, conspiring even, and apparently they had finally managed to come up with a plan. ' _Only took them a week_..!' I mentally huffed.

"Enjoying your stew?"

"I was." I reply pointedly.

"I take it you normally don't cook yerself?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Why, there'd be no need, you being a master thief and all. I bet you could nick yourself a roast pig from Butterbur's kitchen, spit and all without anyone noticin'."

I narrow my eyes in confusion. _Was he actually bragging on my behalf…or was he trying to lure me into a trap..?_

"Only, that'd not be much of a challenge, not for someone who's snitched from a wizard. Now that's not the work of an ordinary thief-"

"Get to the point, Nori." I interrupt bluntly now there's every chance I can kiss that stew goodbye 'cause that sneaky bastard's definitely planning something.

The dwarf shoves aside my plate and leans over the table to say in a lowered voice that he no doubt thinks will pass for confidential and forces me to try hard not to snicker at that, "Far be it from _me_ to doubt your talent, there's _some_ who might be interested to see you prove yourself worthy of being our company burglar."

"Thorin?"

"Thorin."

"Shocker. Go on."

"For starters, all you have to do is pinch summat from this inn and not get caught."

And here we came to it at last. Phase one of the 'for-all-that's-sweet-and-holy-expose-this-crazy-girl-that-forced-herself-on-our-company' plan. Strangely enough, Nori now casts a careful look sideways at the dwarf king who I'm sure has been scrutinizingly observing the two of us from the corner of his (dazzlingly blue!) eyes but is now momentarily distracted by the arrival of his own stew.

Nori leans in even closer, stubby finger emphatically accompanying his whispered words, "Now if I was you, I'd go for something shiny and small, easy enough to slid into your pocket and often looks expensive even when it ain't and it'll not be missed straight away either see."

Advice from one thief to another. Sort of. _Was this too good to be true or was he really trying to help me out here?_

"But aren't you dwarves all like super skilled at making shiny, small things? Won't Thorin spot bad craftsmanship and cheap imitation junk the moment I give it to him?" I argue, having long come to the conclusion that the king in exile is the dwarf version of a shark on legs that can smell blood and deceit miles away. I've made clutching on to my backpack which may or may not hold a certain allegedly hidden far away key a habit for a reason. _I'm practically married to the damn thing these days for crying out loud_! And all because Thorin needs to be a mistrusting and cunning kill joy that possibly saw right through me from the get go.

"He won't." Nori reassures me with a nonchalant one-shoulder shrug.

"Because?"

"Because you'll have to show it to me, a king can't be directly involved in this kind of thing you see."

"Ah.." This was starting to sound promising. I slurp the cooled off stew from my spoon as I ponder on the options available to me. Bad news: I'd miss dinner. Good news: Nori probably doesn't consider me competition for his job like I kind of thought he might and as a result he was now genuinely trying to help me with something that sounded more doable by the minute and would potentially score me kudos with a certain grumpy king.

"What if I accept the challenge and I happen to steal something that's not on par with the expensive and/or super duper awesome stuff I usually go for?" I probe, 99.9% sure he's not falling for my fake boasting but I don't care, I'm starting to trust this slippery and conniving dwarf.

"Things tend to look prettier in candlelight, it might trick me to think something a little more valuable than it is." The cheeky wink he adds removes any remaining doubt and I reach out to shake the hand he offers me, "That's settled then. You can find me in that shadowy corner over there after I'm done with my own round of… _inspection_." He tells me with a mischievous grin and gets to his feet, "Good luck, lass."

I nod at him, repressing a broad smile as I can practically feel Thorin's piercing gaze on me from his seat at the distant head of the long table the company has requisitioned for the night. _I'm so going to enjoy proving him wrong_! Pretending to be daunted by the task ahead I rise from my rickety chair, lick the spoon still in my hands clean in one go and slid it into my pocket to free my hands, from now on to be referred to as 'stealing tools'.

I make your way secret agent style across the inn which is filled with lively chatter and absolutely packed with badly dressed people who've never heard of dentists and collectively failed to look up 'personal hygiene' in a dictionary. This includes sidling against grubby walls, zigzagging through the crowd like a jedi, and hiding behind broad-shouldered 'unsavory types' until the stench that hung about them made my eyes tear and I was forced to dart away behind someone or something else, ever onwards in pursuit of steal-able objects.

Ten minutes of this got me absolutely nothing if you didn't count the several injuries I'd sustained which were (apart from being embarrassing and painful) nothing compared to the accompanying traumas. I had been pricked in the butt with a fork (that Staddle hobbit character hadn't taken well to me ripping off a nice, bronze button from his waistcoat), pinched in the fleshiest part of my arm (needless to say the waitress I'd snuck a pretty little hairpin in her hair from was not amused when said hair then proceeded to collapse and resemble a neglected birds nest), and last but not least pulled on my ear by none other than Mr. Butterbur himself when I'd been futzing with a fancy enough looking doorknob that turned out to be attached to the door leading to a cramped, dirty loo he hadn't sought refuge in to clean.

As a result I was now banned to the naughty corner behind the bar with the landlord throwing me peeved off looks that promised an evening of scrubbing and doing the dishes as soon as he got a moment to spare from serving his customers. I sat with your back against a beer barrel, knees pulled up to my chest as I swayed a little from side to side in an attempt to repress (never mind processing) the horrible things that had happened to me. Frustration steadily builds with every passing minute that removes me further from turning this epic fail into a success story. Then I sit up a little straighter, the vine-like hold of my arms on myself loosening a bit, and strain my ears for a repetition of that nearby meowing.

The moment I spot the black cat with yellow car lights for eyes parading over the bar a predatory smirk creeps its way onto my face. The dainty creature jumps deftly down to my level, strolling closer while purring and flicking its tail left and right in curiosity. _Perfect_ … _Muhahaha_ …

It only takes me a split second to launch myself forward and tackle the cat to the ground like a pro wrestler. I ignore its hisses and screeches, too overjoyed with my long awaited and hard fought victory to realize not everyone is going to be deaf to it. I sit back on my knees, intending to gleefully observe my catch but the cat has other plans for me. It lets out a particularly nasty hiss, flexes his paws that have razor sharp claws shoot out faster than friggin' Wolverine can pull it off which it then uses quite effectively to scratch all over my face and neck. I yelp in pain then feel something warm and liquidy trickle down my cheek.. _Did this furry ball from hell just draw blood_?!

I was on the verge of letting out a battle cry when the cat's owner turned up. It was that old hag with the mad cackle that must be a regular because she had been there during the meeting between Gandalf and Thorin too. And I knew this because I'd seen the opening scene to DOS more times than I cared to remember, besides it was hard to forget that ear grating laugh. Not that she was laughing now. Her face was distorted in rage with her greasy hair peeping out from a weird tea-towel kind of hat, her potato for a nose had turned as red as Rudolf's and a large wart on her chin wobbled along with the angry steps she took towards me and her clearly harassed cat.

Releasing my grip instantly the cat sprints off but not before bitch slapping me in the face with its fluffy tail that has me sputter out hairs and frantically scraping my tongue clean. Then the reek of sherry hits me like a wall, reminding me not too subtly of the screaming wrath coming my way and I duck out from under the bar. I can hear more than one glass shatter above me when the cat lady's aim is off (thanks to your timely disappearance…well, that and the fact that she was a habitual drinker that no longer could hit anything accurately) and she continues on her rampage by displacing tankards and goblets with fell swipe after fell swipe. This very soon escalates into a brawl with other customers who are now drenched in their own drinks and I crawl away to safety on all fours as fast as I can.

Full-fledged panic and a gripping fear for my life spurring me on, I make for a long table and scurry under it and out of sight of Smaug's mother-in-law who just sucker punched Butterbur when he had come rushing out of the cellar to break up the fight. Relieved with my narrow escape I crawl further under the table, navigating around chewed on chicken bones, dust coated olives and puddles of spilled ale, and for some reason the row of heavy, metal plated boots and strangely familiar voices above me don't raise any flags as I wobble along.

Then, as the commotion on the other side of the inn has finally subsided and my heart rate has resumed its normal not-hammering-as-mad pace, a bright glimmer catches my attention and I zoom in on that shiny and small thing I had been looking for all this time. _Eureka_! It's a weird sort of clasp of what I realize with excitement might well turn out to be silver and is attached to the shoe laces of a pair of weather-beaten boots kinda like that smiley badge is on my backpack. Sort of. I approach my target stealthily and set to work.

I've almost pried it off when there's a lull in the conversations going on above me that doesn't get filled with more talk. There's the scraping sound of chairs being pushed back and pair by pair the boots around me start moving away until it's just me and my prize left that's so close to being mine. Running out of time I make one desperate move and yank the clasp free. _Yes_! _I totally did it_! It's then that I notice how, strangely enough, the boots in front of me remain exactly where they are and before I know it their owner crouches down and a brilliant pair of sapphire eyes stare directly into mine.

I try to think of an excuse, of whatever it is that I could've dropped that explains my being here but the only thing that well and truly drops is my jaw and I stupidly blink back at the dwarf king in all my glorious and obvious guilt.

Thorin simply holds out his hand, palm turned upwards and I grumpily comply with his unspoken request. I watch with toes curling in my sneakers and an unhappy moan as he slowly closes his fingers around the clasp I had managed to steal for the dazzling duration of two seconds but then he does something so unexpected I stiffen and my eyes instinctively widen in shock.

His index finger unclenches from his fist and he places it lightly under my chin, calloused skin brushing mine, saying in a rumbling voice, "I suggest you close that big mouth of yours unless you like flies for dessert.."

Thorin then snaps my jaw shut with surprisingly gentle force, his mouth quirking with unmistakable, savage pleasure. He unbends his knees and starts walking away, teasingly thumb-flipping the clasp in his hand high into the air and catching it again as he goes.

I have no idea how long it takes me to revive but when I'm of a mind to (belatedly) set chase so I can give that haughty, arrogant fool a piece of my mind I forget I'm currently under a table. As I hurriedly scramble to get up my head inevitably collides hard with wood I swear is made of sterner stuff than my skull. My loud 'ouch' is in fact a censored version of the string of curses that pass my lips and it's not until the world stops spinning and I've blinked away stars blurring my vision that I crawl out form under the table and groggily get to my feet.

Deflated I make my way to that shadowy corner where Nori is loyally waiting for me like he said he would. Well…this was just fan- _fucking-_ tastic! After all the trouble I went through. After all that effort to jump the damn hoop dangled in front of me if only so it would make Thorin a little less snappy. Seriously it'd been only a week and the king had done nothing but give me the cold shoulder, bark orders, downright pretend I didn't exist (his favorite treatment of me by far though Gandalf was a true natural at this), or peppered me with snarky comments. And now I'd handed him an early birthday present on a silver platter and he would go to bed with dreams of ice creams, rainbows and unicorns while my days as a part of this company might well be numbered..

"Well…?" Nori's expectant question slowly prods through my gloomy vibe.

I sag even further in the termite infested and worn armchair across from him, wanting to disappear in its uncomfortable embrace.

"Whatcha got for me?" the thief asks, only now emerging from the shadows that experience has taught him how to make use of. I lift your eyes just in time to see him storing something sparkly and glittery in an inside, bulging pocket of his tunic and it fills me with envy when I compare it to my success rate of the evening.

"You're not thinking of keeping it all to yourself now, are ye?" Nori grins, prompting me to bite out tersely and in a burning shame I don't even know where exactly it originates from, "I've got nothing, okay."

After this I pout in frustration and cross my arms protectively across my chest.

"Nothing you say? Then what is that in your pocket?"

I frown at Nori's cryptic words then notice the out of place weight and long, curved shape hidden in it. _The spoon_!

I take it out and stare disbelievingly at it. _Wow_.. I really was a natural at this stealing thing. This could be the start of a brilliant career..! That thought alone has me proudly twirl it inexpertly in my fingers, showing it off to Nori like a lion cub would bring its first dead rat to his mom.

"Now that is a very fine looking utensil, rare piece of remarkable craftsmanship. I know a certain king will be most impressed by your trophy. In fact, I feel I need to give you something in return for your excellent performance. How's this for a trade..?" Nori tells me, hand disappearing in one of the many folds of his tunic only to emerge seconds later with a large, geometrically shaped key engraved with runes.

For the second time that evening my jaw drops and I'm sure that if I keep this up I'm going to irreparably strain the muscles in it. "Aaaaaah…!" I wail miserably as I realize what I'm looking at, hands grabbing my hair and a look of horror latching onto my face, I'm not sure if it'll ever leave it again, "W-When?! How?! _Why_?!- …Wait. Did you just suggest swapping it for my spoon?"

Unfazed by my panic attack Nori simply nods, beady eyes gleaming with mirth as he holds the key to his lips and moves it as if he's locking my secret behind them. I beam at him in gratitude as he throws the key unceremoniously on the small side table afterwards with a loud _clunk_. He then holds out his empty hand, palm up, much like Thorin had done not too long ago and wriggles his fingers, indicating I was to hand him 'his' spoon in return. I more than happily oblige, snatching up the key that also happens to be my ticket to Erebor and tugging it the pocket of my baggy hoody.

I didn't know how I had done it but this wonderful thief was on my side too. Update: _Six dwarves down, only seven more to go_!

"Wait, I've got something you'll like," feeling I need to properly reward the dwarf that's just saved my pathetic ass I start rummaging in my backpack to get him those M&Ms but look up again at a crunching and smacking noise. Nori has what you were searching for in his hands and is popping those M&Ms like there's no tomorrow before he bursts out laughing when he sees my stupefied look of surprise.

 _Damn_. I still had a lot to learn but with a bit of luck and Nori's guidance I might just get there in the end…


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for following/favoriting and especially for reviewing! :D

Hymlume: _Yup, it's definitely a good thing he's on her side or her game would've been up pretty soon ;p And 'His Majesty Prince McBroodypants' must be the best description of Thorin I've ever come across: kudos to you!_

Ryndell: _Hey! Thank you so much for your honest and heartfelt review, I truly appreciate that! I hope I can take your concern away by assuring you that this story is most definitely meant as a parody, I guess I needed a lighter and completely silly story to help me get into the swing of writing fanfiction again seeing RL is crazy atm. I'm currently working on chapter 11 (I'm crossposting this on AO3) and I feel the character of Ruby has gained more depth, as has Thorin and I try to sneak in as many of the other dwarves of the company whenever I can. But you're absolutely right, it's very different in tone and plot from my other Hobbit fanfics. Still hope you'll enjoy the rest of this 'feel-good' story, thanks again for this review and I updated my Thorin/OC story today and will do my utmost to update How to Catch a Star soon too! 333  
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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 4**

Steam curls up from the water's surface and I let out a long sigh of contentment as I lazily lean back in the tub and follow the vapory wisps with my eyes until they dissolve near the wooden beams making up the ceiling. Every sore muscle in my body relaxes and I'm relieved to have rubbed off the dirt and grime that had started to cake on my skin after that week travelling on the road. I knew that eventually I'd have to get used to the new, dirty me and to washing up in creeks, streams and little rivers, but right now I was just happy and warm and comfortable watching a bar of soap bob like a tiny, toy sail ship on the small waves I make with my hands.

Still, the soothing embrace of the warm water had also brought out some long overdue tears, I was actually pleasantly surprised I had lasted this long without crying over the crazy curveball life had thrown me. I heaved with a series of partly stifled sobs while my nose got snottier and snottier and my eyes became red and a little swollen. In the end I knew I must look an absolute mess but I actually felt a whole lot better. By letting go of that pent up shock at arriving in a fictional world with no guarantee I could ever go back (not that I would, I'd made my mind up about that almost instantly) the finality of that crazy and unexpected transition became a little less upsetting and I felt ready to take on the world again.

Something else that improved my mood significantly was the fact that those sentimental fools had gallantly insisted I take a room of my own simply because I happened to be a woman (so kind of them to notice, I had blushed like a little girl) while they had to bunk up four dwarves to a room excepting Thorin, he got the royal suite to himself…snooty snob! This arrangement was convenient in more than the obvious way (read: no damn snoring!) for after this night's fiasco I'd realized I needed to find a better place to hide that key. I couldn't risk Thorin snooping around in my backpack and finding it should he doubt Nori's report on it. Fitting behavior for a king or not I just knew it in my bones that he wouldn't shy away from stooping to my level and do the dirty work himself if he had to. And that's why even before taking a bath I had torn two strips from the bedsheet which was so frayed and tattered I doubted anyone would notice and weaved it around each other to make a strong and semi-fashionable necklace. From it now dangled the key, just below that dent where my collarbones met and I was determined never to take it off until that fateful day still many months away.

It had felt a little weird to bathe with the key still around my neck, and I had stared a little mesmerized at the distorted underwater shape of it as it was too heavy to float upwards but I was much rather a little overly paranoid than have another dwarf besides Nori find out. I'd been extremely lucky the thief had taken a liking to me and agreed to not only keep his mouth shut but had also promised to teach me the noble arts of thievery himself. The prospect of what Thorin believed to be his spy who would unmask my treachery to now be employed as my own personal coach was simply hilarious to me.

A smile curving my lips at the happy thought I got out of the tub and sauntered to the thick rug in front of a blazing hearth, reveling in the warmth of the flames that would dry me better than any towel would and faster too by the feel of it. I'd only just turned my front towards the fire, key slung back to rest between my shoulder blades for I figured the metal would heat up too much and burn my skin, when my daydreaming prevented me from noticing the knocks on the door and it already creaked open before I could so much as blink.

I glanced over my shoulder to identify my visitor and froze simultaneously with Ori standing on the threshold, white, frilly looking nightgown clutched in both hands that he no doubt had meant to offer to me.

The young dwarf gulps as if he's about to be sick (I hasten to calm myself it's not because I'm actually _that_ repulsive) and I'm not sure if his reaction is because of the key or seeing me stark naked but that combination is more than enough to make him go as red as a beet. Ori drops the nightgown, squeezes his eyes tight shut and stumbles backwards out of my room, fumbling with the door handle he reaches out for like a blind man before he finally grabs it and closes the door again with a loud _bang_.

 _Damn it_. That was dwarf number two who knew I had the key on me and not in a far away, mysterious hiding place. As I make for the door to retrieve the night gown and pull it over my head I mull over what steps I need to take but then quickly come to the conclusion I might not have to take any. Ori was clearly too shell shocked to ever tell anyone about this and I very much doubted he would, especially since he would have to explain the context in which he saw I had the key. Something told me he would faint before he could utter my name and the words 'naked' and 'key' in one sentence face to face with the dwarven king. The only dwarf he might tell was his oldest sibling, Dori, but I was sure he would simply smack the young, bashful dwarf on the head and pretend he didn't know for propriety's sake alone. Confident that my reasoning was sound I felt relieved that my secret was still safe, but I really needed to be more careful from now on. Locking the door for one seemed like a good place to start.

Despite my rocky start as a master thief and both Ori and Nori (possibly Dori too) finding out about the key, I slept like a log that night, not waking up until Dwalin practically kicked in the door SWAT style. His hard knocks made the rusty hinges rattle and shake to such a degree that it woke me up just in time to assure him 'the skinny coward' had not in fact done a runner and would be joining the rest of the gang for breakfast in a minute. That breakfast I'd envisioned as an extravagant buffet turned out to be a pile of sandwiches and a pear all neatly wrapped up in a napkin, to be consumed on horse- _pony_ back while we trudged through muddy puddles and away from Bree following the Great East Road.

Because of the relentless rain beating down on us my food soon turned all soggy and disgusting but I doubted I could trick Bob into eating it (he'd been in a foul mood ever since having to leave the inn's cozy stables) and with my stomach growling louder every five minutes (several of the dwarves had eyed the darkened sky overhead worriedly as they mistook my hunger for rumbling thunder) I decided to gobble it down anyway instead of throwing it away like I'd seen Kíli do (spoiled little princess that he was). With courtesy of the ongoing downpour I was already half drenched by the time I managed to guilt trip Balin into giving me his spare travel cloak when he suddenly appeared next to me on his hazel brown mount.

I doubted it was really his though for it smelled strangely alluring for some reason I could not fathom and I kept sniffing it trying to remember who of the other dwarves it reminded me off but I wasn't going to make it a reason to demand a different one in this awful weather. Genuinely taking pity on me Balin also donated an expertly woven scarf to me which I gratefully stuffed under my hoody to make me warmer and curvier too in the process. Balin chuckled appreciatively at the joke I managed to make on this topic despite the thick drops trying to drown me as I spoke and I realized the dwarf riding alongside me can't help being the kind, caring grandpa of the group, even to me. Bless him. And unless I was much mistaken that was seven down and only six to go. At this rate I should have them all wrapped around my little finger before reaching Rivendell. _Excellent_..

Setting up camp that evening made my good mood spike even more as I recognized the ledge overlooking pine forests and rocky hills. The fact that I looked like a drowned rat was all forgotten. What did it matter? This was it. Tonight everyone would go all emo as they listened to Balin recounting the battle of Azulnabuba.. Azulbabi.. Azilbunar… _Fuck you Khuzdul_. Recount the battle of _Moria_ and I was overjoyed at the fact that apparently everyone's curiously selective amnesia made it necessary for Thorin to face off the horizon in a staring contest and turn around dramatically so his audience of admiring dwarves could swoon at his majestic figure and hurt scowl. Seriously, only Thorin could make PTSS a smoldering look to die for.

I sigh in happy anticipation and dart around camp to help out the other dwarves with their tasks (I have thus far managed to dodge getting assigned any fixed chores myself: yaaay for my successful Oín imitation, maybe I should steal that ear trumpet to make my deaf act even more convincing), impatient as I am to get to tonight's highlight. After dinner which I practically inhaled in my hurry, I squeeze in between Fíli and Kíli, wriggling my behind as I back up so they have to scoot apart to make room for me. And then I wait, shit eating grin on my face and staring unperturbed at Thorin. If he notices my eyes fixed on him like a hawk's then A+ for the poker face because the dwarven king gives no sign that he is affected by it. Eventually he leans back against that huge ass boulder and I can see him lose the fight against his drowsiness ( _Aaaaw.._ Oi! Focus!) I sit up straighter. _Any minute now_ …

That's when I remembered a tiny but very crucial detail: _Bilbo_! The hobbit wasn't here! Which in turn meant those two rascals on either side of me would just continue smoking their pipes and chatter away stupidly instead of saying those tactless things to frighten the living daylights out of the already spooked hobbit..

I feel a veritable depression coming on at this realization but then the solution comes to me with perfect timing. A shrill cry rents the night air and I know what to do. I wait for the admittedly bloodcurdling sound to rouse Thorin from his little beauty sleeping then clear my throat in preparation. The dwarf finally jerks wakes, pushing himself off against the rock. And….. _action_!

A perfectly convincing and authentic (*cough*liar!*cough*) scream passes my lips, making both Fíli and Kíli duck for cover, two pairs of hands instinctively shooting up to belatedly protect their ears against any damage. "What was that?" I ask with a 'scared' wobble pushing my voice up. Congratulating myself on your Oscar worthy performance I wait expectantly for their banter to begin. I'm not disappointed.

"Orcs." Fíli answers, face serious, "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

Kíli joins the double act (seriously how long do they rehearse for this shit?), expression equally earnest, "They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood.."

"Fantastic.." I muse absentmindedly, eyes trained on Thorin. _Any minute now_ … The brothers flanking me exchange a nonplussed and slightly disturbed look.

"Here, why don't you try a bit of this." Fíli offers me his pipe. Kíli nods fervently in agreement and guides it to my mouth, saying assuringly, "It'll make you less on edge. Ease your nerves.."

I'm confused and don't know what's going on. _Why wasn't Thorin barking at them yet_? Frustrated and feeling I've been personally screwed over by the universe (what else could have the audacity to cheat me out of my much yearned for shot of Thorin pulling off the ultimate exiled dwarf king look?) I grind your teeth.

To make those two pesky goblins next to me stop force feeding me that pipe I inhale deeply only to swallow it all down in one go as I can swear Thorin is finally bored with gravely staring off in the distance and I can just feel he's going to turn around to verbally bite off their heads instead of mine for a change.

Excitement flooding through me, replacing disappointment in the process, I reach for my phone. Up to now I've kept it in my backpack set to low power mode, figuring modern tech might potentially mess with the plot but right now I can't care less about the consequences, this'll be the one million dollar shot I'm not gonna pass up for anything..!

Before my fingers can locate my phone I feel something else wreathing in my lungs that has nothing to do with my excitement. I start coughing. Not the polite kind of ' _hem_ , _hem_ ' or the semi-cute soft scraping of the back of my throat. No, the kind of cough that make my eyes tear up and make me sound like an orangutan with a hangover while I pray someone will get the hint and do the Heimlich on me. And if I thought the coughing was bad…wait for the nausea to kick in a split second later..

I'm vaguely aware of only half restrained snickering from the princes and a deep, booming voice rolling through camp like thunder shutting them the hell up as I rush to the relative privacy of the bushes. A lot of stomach heaving, gagging and puking later I drag myself back to camp that has grown suspiciously quiet. Both Fíli and Kíli are pacing restlessly at the edge of the circle of light cast from the fire, stepping up to me as I reemerge with whatever abysmally small amount is left of my dignity. Their genuinely concerned and guilt-ridden expressions make me forgive them on the spot but before they can say anything I raise a finger in warning and growl out, "Remind me not to feed you two to Smaug."

Identical grins split their faces before they exchange a look with someone I can hear come up behind me and that has them hang their heads in shame and retreat to their bedrolls instantly.

I whisk around and find myself face to face with none other than Thorin, impressive scowl as usual creasing his forehead, "What were you thinking of?!"

"Uhh.." I mumble back intelligently at the accusation that doesn't make any sense whatsoever unless his period just started. In that case I won't judge.

"You cannot just leave camp on your own and unprotected, it is not safe. From now on you will ask for one of us to accompany you."

"Pffff..!" I huff out like a five year old, my not taking him seriously only riling Thorin more.

"In case you have forgotten we have entered the Wild, there's no knowing what enemies may be lurking about. You could've gotten yourself killed..!" Thorin sneers, nearing me to as close as an inch.

"Well, excuse me but I was a bit too busy being sick to get myself a bodyguard!" I bite back in my defense.

"Remember to do it next time." he orders me gruffly, not intimidated by my rising temper.

"Sure. Next time I feel like this I'll remember to aim for your lovely, royal self, it's not like a bit of barf will stand out on that muddy coat, now will it?" not of a mind to wait for yet another retort I make to excuse myself with an exaggerated, low bow but the moment I straighten my back a little too fast that horrible sense of vertigo creeps up on me again faster than Speedy Gonzales. I press a hand to my mouth, clasping my stomach too, but I know I'm on the verge of fulfilling that prophecy I just made right there and then.

With a swiftness that must be due to the fact he's a hardened and experienced warrior Thorin sidesteps the contents of my stomach as I hurl it in his direction (might as well keep your word, right?). Feeling deeply disappointed I missed him I double over then sink to my knees, hating the retching sounds I'm producing and the taste of bile on my tongue as I spit it out. Next moment I can feel someone grabbing a hold of my hair to keep it out of my face and a hand rubbing my arched back soothingly.

Five minutes later I feel recovered enough to accept the cloth Bofur offers me and gratefully wipe my mouth clean with it, even more thankful for the fact it's too dark to see just how dirty it is and praying inwardly it's not similar to that piece he ripped off his own clothes and tossed to Bilbo for a hanky in the movies.

Fíli and Kíli then simultaneously hold out their water skins to me (did those blasted monkeys synchronize everything?!) so I end up taking a gulp from both if only to make the two of them look equally satisfied now they've made up for their earlier prank (little did they know I'd still skin those brothers alive once I felt a little less queasy, if it was gory horror stories they liked, I'd give them one…*cue Psycho violin screeches*).

 _Ugh_.. What the hell had been in that tabaco? Whatever drugs these dwarves were on, it was not for me. Never, _never_ again..!

I got to your feet with the help of Balin and whoever it was that had kept my hair in one hand and had rubbed my back with the other. Slowly turning around I see the three Ri brothers give me sympathetic looks and Bombur sends a compassionate smile my way. The rest of the dwarves were expressively and thoughtfully looking the other way to save me further embarrassment…well, either that or they didn't give a damn.

 _Wait_.. I freeze, brain finally starting to catch up to a mystery I really wanted solved. _Who_ had been holding my hair and rubbing my back? My eyes stray through the camp, all dwarves accounted for but one. I can't see the king anywhere. _Where did he get to_? Suspecting I know the answer to that question I tilt my head slowly to the side.

 _Thorin_ …

The dwarf king is actually standing at my side, one hand now under my elbow supporting much of my weight, the other resting against the small of my back in the same attempt to keep me standing.

Wooh, wooh, wooh.. Hang on. Did _Thorin_ , of all dwarves, just turn into the perfect little _nurse_?

Spotting my look of intrigue (possibly I was beaming at him with puppy dog eyes, I had just had the worst trip of my life so it's not like I was in control of that atm) Thorin grunts out something inaudible, drops his hands from me (Balin and Bofur are just in time to lend me their much needed assistance) and marches away to moodily sag against the rock he had leant against before that Moria flashback that hadn't happened.

Reminded of that epic fail I strangely enough don't feel a resurgence of disappointment. No. On the contrary. Stealing a glance at the dwarf king and catching him do the same at me makes all of my bad mood and dizziness completely and blissfully ebb away…


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Digital hugs to everyone who faved/followed/reviewed! 333 Here's another silly chapter I hope you'll enjoy~**

Ryndell: _No worries, I'm always open to constructive criticism and honest feedback! Thanks for your review! I hope you will write that Thorin one-shot, I'd love to read it! And I'm truly sorry about your pet, they are an important parts of our lives, members of our family and the best of friends…I wish you all the strength to cope with the loss! Take care of yourself and hopefully this chapter will cheer you up at least momentarily! ;)_

Hymlume: _haha thank you so much for that grudgingly admitted compliment! ;p actually writing this story feels the same, it's ridiculous and yet I can't help but grow close to these dwarves and Ruby no matter how silly they are! so glad last chapter made you laugh, and I blushed and lolled at the same time (blolled?!) when you actually quoted me in the review…not sure if I've ever been quoted by a reader but it was a very pleasant sensation…thank you! haha :D I could add 'please enjoy this chapter' but something tells me you definitely will… ;p_

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 5**

I crouch down, careful not to make a sound as both knees dig into the sand before I lean forward and plant my elbows in it as well. Stretching out on my belly, I hold my phone ready in one hand, the other slowly pushing the leaves and branches down –the weight of it alone suffices– and the sight that comes into view as a result has me go into full peeper mode.

Unware of my prying gaze Thorin sheds garment after garment as he stands tall and with a straight stance on the bank of a small river that actually runs pretty deep by the looks of it. Further down stream I can hear the racket some of the other dwarves are making while they wash but I tune it out and forget all about them the moment I catch my first glimpse of skin.

More than ever I was grateful for the facts that, one: Bofur was a lousy bodyguard and currently too happy with his apple flavored lollipop to bother following me when I left camp, and second: that the dwarf king had preferred bathing on his own this morning..

I shiver with anticipation, a warm feeling tingling below my navel as my eyes rove over a bare back chiseled to perfection and I giggle like a lovesick teenager at the broad shoulders and strong arms Thorin stretches when he pulls his tunic over his head. A teasing tremor tickles my spine and travels up and down it as his muscles flex with the movement and his hair falls down in sensuous waves after it's been released from the garment too. Then he kicks off his boots, unbuttons his baggy trousers and it slips easily over his hips to gather in a heap of folds and fabric at his feet.

Mesmerized I hold my breath as Thorin makes for the river, pebbles grinding with every determined step until he enters the water, wading through it until his lower half is entirely submerged in it. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon_ …I mumble suddenly feverish, willing him to turn around and I can hardly believe my luck when he does.

The sides of my neck prickle like mad and my cheeks burn with the heat that surges through my veins as I watch how Thorin splashes ice cold water against his toned chest. The biting touch of the water, although visibly refreshing if the relaxed expression on his face is anything to go by, hardens the lines on his body and his muscles ripple as he repeats the process, again and again. He then gathers his hands, forming a fleshy bowl that he lowers until they disappear in the crystal clear water.

A gasp tumbles over my lips as he swiftly raises his now water-filled hands again, buries his face in them and then throws his head back in the same, smooth action. Water drips from the tips of his hair, running down in rivulets over hardened nipples all the way to his navel and I can't resist the temptation to watch one travel over the almost embossed-like row of abs. It trickles over the dents between those carved and accentuated muscles and then further down, to where his body ends and the water starts tantalizingly close to his hipbones, lapping against the ridges of those chiseled bones and taut skin.

I lift my gaze again, a fire pooling in the region just under my belly though his long dark hair which is wet and glistening as it cascades down, split by his shoulders and clinging to his upper body, does not cool me off in the least. I follow the black strands to where they stick against his temples and then I find those eyes that powerful blue which have now acquired the pure and enticing color of the river he bathed in.

Mentally slapping myself in the face to come to my senses again and remember what I was here for I swipe my phone to life and look through instead of around it. _Oh boy_ …voyeurism really was the best hobby to have when I was the only one with the means to take pictures. _Hehe_.. I punch in the code, tap the camera app, take aim and press hard on the dot your thumb impatiently hovers over. There's a weird, overly loud whirring-like click and I swear under my breath for forgetting to switch off sound. Before I can check whether Thorin heard the fake shutter sound or my cursing afterwards I can feel someone, well, _two_ someone _s_ breathing down my neck.

"Wooh… What even _is_ that?" Kíli exclaims in undisguised, child-like wonder, his breath brushing passed my ear in a way that makes me ticklish, I instinctively hunch forward and retract my neck as if I was a turtle.

"How can a painting of uncle so detailed fit inside of… _that_?" Fíli ponders out loud, pointing a tentative finger over my shoulder and at my phone.

"And so life-like.." the younger brother chimes in making his older sibling nod fervidly in agreement before adding in mischievous surprise, "Look! You can almost see his-"

I hurriedly fumble to press the small switch on the top rim of my phone and inwardly thank whatever deity was responsible for adding that sound effect to screen lock. That, combined with the screen suddenly going completely black, makes enough of an impression to awe Kíli into a timely silence.

"What are you doing here?!" I hiss through your teeth.

"Following you!" Fíli explains, having the nerve to sound indignant that I'd asked.

" _Why_?" I spit back, equally miffed.

"Uncle's orders." Kíli supplies dully.

Annoyed I narrow my eyes, "Again, _why_?"

This time it is Fíli who answers me, lowering his voice and giving it a bit of a growling edge, even going so far as to furrow his brows in a comical sort of scowl as he imitates Thorin, " _Making fun of one who is weaker is not the behavior I expect from the princes of the line of Durin! To repent you will latch onto her shadow at all times and make sure she is safe!_ "

 _Huh_.. Well, that was semi-nice of the king, though something did gnaw at me after hearing that explanation, "What do you think he meant by 'weaker'?" I probe honestly and completely clueless. Kíli's snickering at his brother's convincing Thorin imitation dies off and the two exchange a silent look.

"So… Care to tell us what that thing is exactly?" Fíli then not so subtly changes the topic but I decide to let it slide now he's reminded me of my most recent epic fail. I had just exposed these kiddos to a device that would not be invented in this world for a long time, if ever, and I was freaking out at the thought that it'll mess up the plot for sure. _Then again_ … My presence alone must've already upset that balance anyway, I stole Bilbo's job after all and the hobbit was miles away sipping tea in his comfy armchair. _How much more could this little slip up really change things further down the line…_?

"Oh.. Um.. It's a portrait maker." I tell them, bending the truth just a little.

" _How_?" Kíli sounds as confused as Fíli looks.

"Like this." I wake my phone from its little powernap and demonstrate, bossily making the two dwarves position themselves so they fit in the frame with me before counting down, telling them to smile spontaneously as I force my lips into an unnaturally happy curve myself and then hit the button under my finger.

"See? It's easy."

Both dwarves stare at the selfie I just took with them, expressions an interesting mix of shock and wild curiosity. _Oh, oh_ …

They exchange a meaningful look for the second time in less than a minute and I already know what they're gonna ask me before they say in an overly excited chorus, "Can we try too?"

"Hell no."

"Are you absolutely sure about that, Miss Ruby?"

"Of course I am!"

"Hmm.. Well that is a pity," Fíli starts ominously, "for if you don't let us try-"

"-we might just tell uncle about that interesting portrait you have of him." Kíli finishes the threat, their fine-tuned gluing half-sentences into one dethroning the Weasley twins as pathetic amateurs.

"I thought dwarves were too honorable and proud to do bribes?" I argue, knowing it's a futile attempt but wanting to stave off my inevitable defeat a moment longer.

"We were dishonorable enough to accept yours not too long ago.." Fíli counters smartly and Kíli digs in a pocket to retrieve a wrapper from one of those sticky toffees they sold me their souls for, lifting it up for me to see and rubbing it between his thumb and fingers to have the plastic rustling carry the same meaning as his brother's words.

I should be angry at them. I really should. But instead I felt proud and weirdly emotional. _How I taught my beautiful babies well_! _Why oh why did they have to grow up so fast_?!

In order not to betray my inner feelings I make a show of sighing a resigned sigh, mumbling grumpily, "Fair enough."

I slap my phone in Fíli's outstretched hand, "Only this button mind you, and don't tell anyone about this, it's our little secret, okay?"

They nod in in perfect unison, the sparkle in their eyes so innocent it might tip the scale to devious any second.

"Right… Against my better judgement I'll go for a quick dip then-"

"With uncle?" Fíli queries cheekily while Kíli wriggles his brows suggestively.

"No, of course not _with_ Thorin-" it takes a split second to realize the opportunity this could be and I change gears mid-sentence, "Why? Do you think he'd be open to that?"

My question is met by baboon type of guffawing, Fíli being the first to recover bursts out, "Uncle never allows any woman to see him naked. He'd sooner swim with an elf lad!"

Kíli lets out a hiccup sound as he stifles his snickers to add with tears of joy in his eyes, "The last dwarrowdam who tried still hasn't been found!"

"What?!" I can't help but exclaim in horror. If the proud, grouchy king had made someone disappear for seeing his sexy butt than I really didn't want to know what he'd do if he found out I took that picture.

"Don't worry. Old Bína left on her own accord, whatever my dear brother's overactive imagination might suggest. Her infamous habit of sneaking into the dwarrow's section of the hot baths simply caught up with her in the end." Fíli assured me when he spotted my concerned expression, whacking the back of Kíli's head to silence his loud snorts.

"Right…" I repeat my previous sentiment of unease, eyes flitting between the blonde and the brown haired dwarf, the first throwing me a pacifying and encouraging sort of look and the latter rubbing the back of his head and pouting.

"Just.. Just don't move from this spot. I'll be back in ten."

I wait for their synched nod, roll my eyes when they do and start on my way to my very first open air bath though it's not that prospect that fills me with trepidation.

My suspicions are proved right the moment I return and those two sneaky weasels are nowhere to be seen. I freeze the moment the unmistakably jubilant sounds of the dwarves reaches my ears. Sprinting back to camp I stumble upon all of them huddled together and striking ridiculous poses as Nori, standing on the trunk of a felled tree to gain the height to cram everyone into the shot, shouts a boisterous "Smile!" to everyone behind him.

My outraged "What the..!" coincides with that tacky fake shutter sound and the loud cheers this triggers from the dwarves who only now notice me and fall silent. Most of them simply blink stupidly in my direction, Nori slowly lowering his arm and the phone he holds in his hand and I spot Fíli and Kíli practically on the back of a struggling Thorin in a pro-wrestler type of chokehold to keep him from fleeing. When I see through his disgruntled look and pick up the flicker of amusement in the king's radiantly blue eyes the surprise I experience causes my anger to subside in an instant.

"What's up with the friggin' group selfie," I start reproachfully as I make my way towards all of them but then continue with a broad grin splitting your face, "that doesn't have _me_ in it too?!"

There's a whirlwind of enthusiastic 'hurrahs' and comradely shoulder patting as I squeeze my way to those three Durin dwarves. I lean against the one in the middle, slinging one arm over Fíli's shoulders before sneaking bunny's ears on the king as everyone gets ready and Bofur cheerily starts the countdown.

3.. 2.. 1… _CHEESE_!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for favving/following and especially for reviewing! 333 Enjoy~~~ Also, I'm currently looking for beta-reading projects seeing I would love to expand my experience in this awesome field, hit me up if you're looking for one or know someone who does! ;)**

 _Hymlume: Yes! So glad you enjoyed it! :D And yes, she was being a bit creepy there...but what would you do in that situation?! ;p Love HP, I'll try to work in another reference at some point though it may be after chapter 10 seeing that's where I'm currently at. Anyways, thanks for reviewing!_

 _Memo: Thanks for your review! I'm thrilled you think it's funny! The goal of this story is to make people laugh! :D_

 _Ryndell: Thanks for reviewing! You know, I had the exact same feeling with that name...why though?! Maybe I've come across it in another hobbit fic? I swear it was after I'd already written this though...but how crazy is that, two random people making up the same name because it sounds old dwarvish woman enough...weird! haha Glad you laughed, that's the box for this story ticked! And you're absolutely right, Fili deserves some loving too...and I totally intend to write him a story too, in fact I've written down several ideas but haven't made up my mind yet which premise I'm gonna go for...in any case life's crazily busy and I want to finish some of the stories I'm currently writing/posting before starting to work on Fili's story, but it's definitely going to be there, I love those three Durins equally! :D_

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 6**

Perched on an obliging but not very comfortable rock at the gaping-mouth entrance of the cave, I flash Fíli and Kíli a broad grin in welcome when they're the first to appear and wave them over.

"We almost got eaten by trolls!" Fíli calls out to me as he and his brother hurry my way, sounding as if this had been as fun as watching baby pandas in the zoo.

"One tried to snack on uncle as an appetizer!" Kíli chimes in.

"His own fault for looking too tasty.." I mumble wisely to myself.

" _What_?" Mr. 'hot-cuisine' himself grinds out as he comes up behind his nephews, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Nothing!" I assure him, all sweet innocence, "Just glad you didn't end up dinner. Lunch. Well, _breakfast_ , technically." I wave vaguely at the rising sun behind me, I'd been reveling in the sensation of its warm rays against my back for a while now, it almost made me regret the dwarves had finally caught up with me and I would have to move again soon.

"Hmm," Thorin grumbles then decides it's not worth wasting his time trying to call me out on my witty remark he must've heard perfectly fine the first time and instead he growls in agreement, "Yes. As am I. That was a most… _unpleasant_ experience."

"How did you manage to stall so Gandalf could save your asses?" I probe as one by one the other dwarves and the wizard join me in front of the cave. Just because I'd made myself scarce the moment I'd spotted that dilapidated farm yesterday evening didn't mean I wasn't dying to know how they had escaped. Admittedly, it might've been a bit of a risk to leave them completely ignorant of what awaited them but I'd had every faith in their abilities to come out victorious and in the end I'd more than readily convinced myself that skipping the troll part of the plot didn't mean I was a coward. Well, not _really_ , more like a girl possessing a healthy dose of self-preservation instinct. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. Very noble sentiment indeed.

"So, what did you do?" I press Thorin as he remains conspicuously silent.

"Uncle convinced the trolls he would make a better dessert." Fíli explained and Kíli nudged me in the ribs, whispering loud enough so everyone could still hear him, "Told them whipped cream would go well with his flavor so they tried milking the ponies for hours!"

Catching Thorin's glare Fíli hurried to end their story in a sobered tone, "That's when Gandalf showed up and turned them to stone."

"Whipped cream, you say? _Interesting_.." I muse, storing that useful information away for later, after all, it could come in handy someday.

"And where were you all this time?" Thorin turns on the third degree after swallowing down what I suspected was embarrassment, "You were gone without a trace after dinner, though now it seems your disappearance was very well timed indeed.."

I almost forget to feel riled by that sneering accusation now I can swear something close to a worried glint had momentarily lit up those very fine blue eyes of his. By the time he reached the end of that terse sentence, however, it had already retreated to their depth and Thorin merely looked down at me over his nose as he raises himself up to his full height, arms crossed to indicate he was waiting for me to explain myself.

"Call it luck." I shrug away his insinuation, but his stance remains unchanged, telling me the interrogation isn't over yet. "Just needed some me-time, you know, being the only woman in a group of rowdy dwarves isn't exactly easy."

The lines in his face instantly soften, it was subtle and I doubted I'd have picked it up if I hadn't gotten better at reading his facial expressions since starting out on this quest, but now I knew what it meant. _This fish was off the hook, baby_! It cost me considerable will power not to grin in triumph when Thorin took in a deep, steadying breath and dipped his chin rather gallantly in understanding. _Oh, these silly, chivalrous dwarves, that 'woman-card' was too good not to play, hehe.._

Curiosity finally getting the better of them, some of the dwarves chose that moment to walk passed me and explore the cave, prompting me to call knowingly and probably sounding like I was enjoying yourself a little too much but, well, you _were_. "I wouldn't if I were you.."

Like I had done upon my arrival the few dwarves having entered the troll hoard soon doubled over and gagged, faces distorted in disgust as the stench penetrated their nostrils. I was surprised their brows didn't singe away at the whiff of unpleasantly offensive smell the three monsters had left behind in their repulsive 'home'.

" _Mahal_ …! What is that smell?!" Kíli remarked, pinching his nose close and making his voice sound all nasal and whining like he was the dwarf equivalent of Fran the nanny. He was one of the first that came crawling back out but he looked just as horrified as the others who followed him.

"You don't wanna know, trust me." I simply said, then got to my feet, lazily stretched and dusted off my clothes before bending down to pick what I had salvaged from the cave and hidden from view behind the rock I sat on.

"Catch!" was the only warning I gave Thorin as I casually toss him Orcrist, all cobwebby and dusty. "A souvenir to remind you of today's trauma for the rest of your live." I comment dryly in a tone as if I was promising him a lifelong supply of gummy bears.

"Friends?" I suggest as I turn to Gandalf and offer him the long, narrow shape of Glamdring. For a tense moment the wizard eyes me with unmasked distrust but then he mutters something curt and barely audible as he snatches the sword from my outstretched hand. _Yup, you'll happily consider that a start_.

Satisfied I leave it up to the old geezer to convince Thorin not to throw away his present when he finds out it's made by elves ( _ewwww_..!) and amble away from the cave, whistling a silly tune until finally the others are ready to leave too. Not that all of you will get far. For one, Radagast suddenly crashes through the bushes with his rabbit-drawn sledge. And what a distraction he turns out to be. For once I'm not the craziest of the group and as such enjoy a welcome break from rolling eyes, annoyed sighs and exasperated headshakes.

Everyone eyes the odd pair conversing in hushed whispers with wary apprehension because for some reason I can't grasp the dwarves are actually way too impressed by the 'secret' meeting the group's vagabond and his friend Mr. Bird-Poo are having a stone's throw away.

After Doctor Doolittle has spit out the stick insect I, however, grow rapidly bored with the wizards. I kneel down next to one of the fluffy rabbits and scratch it behind its ear so that its hind leg hammers on the ground like one of Animal's drum solos. _When all of this was over, I was so getting yourself one of these as a pet_!

Once an eerie howl rents the air the atmosphere changes immediately. Apart from putting everyone on edge and whisk around weapons at the ready, the attack of Wargs inevitably prompts Gandalf to correctly assume there's a pack on our tail. Thorin is royally pissed off that Gandalf more or less accuses him of spreading the rumor of the quest far and wide as if he was a gossipy grandma with nothing better to do and I can see him only just keeping a rein on his bad temper on account of risking the wrath of not one but possibly two wizards.

I, on the other hand, are mightily pleased that no one has thought to question me on the topic of accidentally or intentionally spilling the beans on the quest to an orc or two even though my presence and the way I tricked them into hiring me could be considered slightly suspicious. Either the dwarves have started to trust me, or they think I'm simply too weird to be a liability. If only for the ego-boost it gives me, I go for the first option.

I risk all of this goodwill I may or may not have started to built when Ori states melodramatically that the ponies are nothing more than a bunch of apple-eating deserters and have fled.

"Bob! You filthy, four-hooved traitor!" I shout in pretended anger and despairing surprise to no one in particular, raising a fist for dramatic effect, though my act's not half as convincing as I thought it was for the majority of the dwarves flick me doubtful looks or raise a brow or two, clearing throats uncomfortably as they do. There isn't time to dwell on that though what with the Warg pack hot on our heels.

Running for my life, though, is not as exciting or even terrifying in reality as I had expected it to be. Being horribly out of shape, technically I don't think I was actually ever _in_ shape, I'm soon puffing and gasping for air and simply lack the energy to be scared or panicky. I almost trip over my own feet a couple of times and bump into other dwarves as a result that throw me dirty looks but drag me back on my feet anyway. Despite the fact that I try hard to keep up I lag behind in no time, forcing Fíli and Kíli to go back for me on several occasions and just in time pull me out of sight of our pursuers.

Eventually Thorin has had enough of my antics and lifts me up without so much as a by your leave, hanging me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Oi! Watch the hand, would ya? Being chased by Wargs does _not_ give you a legitimate reason to cop a feel!" I complain and Thorin repositions his hold on me immediately, grumbling something about ingratitude as his hand shoots from my ass to the small of my back.

"The same holds true for yourself, Miss Ruby." Thorin counters sassily.

"I object to that accusation. I simply need to balance myself." I counter, not moving my hands away from his royal buttocks. It's not like he's got any handles back here to hold onto, plus he's wearing so many layers this hardly counts as groping.

I'm glad for the respite from swaying left to right as Thorin suddenly stops in his tracks and presses himself sideways against one of the large boulders scattered over the otherwise pretty open plains, waiting for the pack of Wargs and their orc riders to move passed.

It is then that I realize the key around my neck has slipped out of my hoody. Gravity, being the bitch that it is, obviously betrayed me. I want to reach out and quickly hide it again but I also need my hands to hold on to Thorin. Not that it matters. I was too late. The key dangles right in front of Fíli and Kíli's eyes.

Not knowing what else to do I throw them a pleading look, begging them with it not to betray me and I know I've truly befriended them when it doesn't take long for Fíli to nod solemnly and Kíli to reach out and tuck it back and out of sight. With his hand still half way down my hoody I curse the sturdy warrior's bad timing when Dwalin pops up right next to us.

The trademark frown that I suspect is his face's default setting deepens as he eyes the three of us darkly. He radiates disapproval so strongly he doesn't even need to put it into words. The brown haired archer quickly retreats his hand as if he'd burned it and Fíli shrugs apologetically, mumbling something about raging hormones but then the awkward moment is thankfully cut short when Thorin decides the coast is clear and we're suddenly all moving again. Well, all except me 'cause you hitched yourself a ride.

Feeling more than a little displeased that the dwarf king doesn't carry me all the way to Rivendell I let out an inelegant _umphf_ as he puts me down just in front of the secret entrance nothing more than a dodgy crevice under a rugged rock jutting out of the land. I automatically yell when there's a vicious snarl nearby. Swiveling around I find myself face to face with a Warg that's unlike the rest of its pack. Most notably because it's absolutely _tiny_.

My scream trails off as I take in the matted-furred wolf only just reaching up to my knees. It's pawing the ground with its scruffy head looking up, funny ears each pointing in a different direction and beady eyes locking with mine. It was.. It was actually really _cute_.. _Forget about those rabbits, I wanted this one_!

"Can I keep it-" my request aimed at Thorin having rushed back to my side with sword drawn is drowned by a terrible wail and yelping, muddy blood sprays on my face, stains my clothes, I thought I could even discern some bits of brain here and there. _Lovely_.. I look up from the axe buried in the adorable Warg's skull and follow the handle to Dwalin who places a boot on the dead creature's flank to pull his weapon free.

"You have serious anger issues.. You know that, right?"

Impervious to my remark Dwalin's whiskers merely bristle and he grunts an irritated _hmpf_ then exchanges a look with Thorin. I have no idea what it is they manage to communicate in that millisecond but I have a feeling it's only his king's command that has the bald warrior refrain from swinging his axe at me too and he pushes me unceremoniously into the gaping hole behind me.

There's no time to complain about his rough treatment because I have to scramble to my feet and move out of the way for Thorin, the last dwarf to slide down the steep descent and into the hidden passage that leads all the way to the elven realm of Rivendell. Not that he knows this or that Gandalf will tell him yet. Nor will I. I like my head attached to my body, thank you very much.

Seeing there's no room to walk side by side everyone forms a line and with Nori pattering along in front of me and Bofur trudging not far behind I make my shuffling way through the narrow canyon, all the way until after many a twisting turn and rise and drop all of I arrive at the ledge overlooking the Valley of Imladris.

I'm impressed by the view, it _is_ stunning after all, but not wanting the dwarves to think I'm friends with those tree huggers that live here I square my shoulders and place my hands demonstratively on my hips. "Ugh, _elves_.." I state in pure loathing, drawing out that word as I do and finishing by spitting over the edge of the ravine in front of me. My intentions may have been honorable, but I lack a certain awesomeness to pull it off and the force behind my spitting wasn't enough to prevent a remnant of it to dangle in a long strand from my mouth.

Sputtering at first I then hastily wipe my mouth on my sleeve as the dwarves around me burst out laughing though I feel anything but disheartened seeing Dwalin actually gives me a pat on the shoulder and a semi-approving nod and I can swear Thorin subtly narrows his eyes at me in something close to appreciation. Well, either that or he's gauging how much (or how _little_ ) force it would take to push me over that edge I stand ridiculously close to. I hastily step away from it just to be safe and also because the drop has my knees wobble like it always does. Gandalf rather dramatically rolled his eyes at my behavior when I meet his piercing gaze but I welcome that, after all, it's practically an acknowledgement of my existence. In other words, progress, Gandaffle. _Progress_ …

Wishing for handrails to be obligatory in Middle Earth I simply squeeze my eyes tight shut and grab a fistful of Thorin's tunic in front of me to steady and guide me over that narrow bridge spanning across the deep chasm and the roaring waterfall flowing through it. Fear of heights had not been a problem so far but I realized there was no hiding it now. Not that I wouldn't deny suffering from it until my dying day. _These dwarves weren't the only stubbornly proud fool_ s..

The idiot that I am, however, I can't resist peeping open one eye to peer over the edge. It has me instantly dizzy and swerve to one side, making me yank on the tunic though the only reason I don't tumble to my death (and what a waste it would've been!) is the fact that Thorin apparently has an inbuilt alarm for this kind of thing and sensing I'm in danger his hand instantly reaches back and grabs a hold of my hoody to restore my balance and keep me from falling. Too scared and shaken to close my eyes again I leave them wide open with my shock and pick a spot, a silver strand in his long black hair to be precise, to lock my gaze onto.

Both of my hands clutch around the king's arm like vines as it is bent backwards and still holding on to me. He safely marches me military style across that bridge without even having to look behind him to know that, _for once_ , I'm more than willing to follow obediently in his wake..


	7. Chapter 7

Ryndell: _Wish that woman-card would work more often in RL too haha! and I wonder what else would go well with Thorin's flavor…I'll leave that to your imagination, shall I? ;P Please enjoy the next chapter and thanks for reviewing! 333_

Hymlume: _OK, this is potentially gonna sound off but man I love it when people let me know their reactions while reading the latest chapter and admit to laughing out loud, LOUDLY, seriously that's how I read fanfic most of the time too haha! get ready for Ruby klutzing around in Rivendell and falling both on and for a certain dwarf king…. ;p also, sorry about the typos, FFdotnet won't allow 2sg so I have to edit the chapters and swap you's for I's and me's…I guess I'm bound to miss a few now and then but I hope this time there's none! thanks for your praise and positive feedback, makes me grin and blush at the same time!_

carolina-tarinescobar: _Wow, my first ever review in Spanish I think…awesome! :D Thank you so much for letting me know what you like about this story, seeing it's my goal to create something new and yet familiar it means a lot to me that you feel I'm succeeding at that so far! Please enjoy the next chapter!_

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 7**

Huddled together on an ivy riddled square surrounded by dainty statues that looked haughtily down on us, I was more than a little annoyed at the hospitality of elves. Sure. There was no need to send in a parade with trumpets, champagne and confetti, but the pathetic one-man welcome committee now coming ambling down the stairs while the two guards on top of it didn't move a damn muscle was downright insulting.

Gandalf had barely greeted that aloof elf who pretended we didn't just gatecrash their valley when the sounds of clattering hoofs announced the coming of Elrond and those that had ridden out with him. The elves guided their horses deftly in ever closer circles, causing the dwarves around me to brandish weapons, bare teeth and form an even tighter group. Thorin had pushed me unceremoniously behind him and I could hear him growl out what must be expletives of the most creative kind in that guttural dwarf language I wish I understood for even Dwalin looked impressed.

Sensing this was my cue to score myself some points I bravely cowered behind Thorin and out of sight, then cupped my mouth with my hands and called out loudly to that stuck-up elf now taking an orc's wacky staff from Elrond, "Oi, Lindir! Does your mother know you're wearing her dress?!"

The dwarves snickered appreciatively, Kíli letting out a snort that would have made a hog jealous while Fíli catcalled at the elf I just owned and said elf screwed up his snotty face in pure loathing. _Ha_! Stepping out from behind Thorin I straighten, puff out my chest, place my hands on my hips and pout my lips in triumph only for the dwarf king to not so subtly elbow me in the stomach and yank me back, muttering half proud, half vexed, "Don't get cocky."

As warm and fuzzy as Thorin's protectiveness made me feel inside, I was annoyed at how long the drama was taking and therefore all the more glad when all the hubbub finally gained unparalleled clarity as soon as food was mentioned. Forget appreciating elven architecture, I was too busy not being trampled by my gluttonous companions as they pushed and shoved me through Rivendell all the way to the terrace where low tables and poofs had been added for our sakes'.

To say dinner didn't quite agree with the dwarves and me was a gross understatement. I had never been a salad person and the weirdly shaped sandwiches -or whatever those things piled on a platter like a pyramid were- had the texture of old newspapers, smelled like Dwalin's socks and probably tasted like them too but I hadn't been stupid enough to take a bite. Bombur had and his eyes bulged the moment he had gobbled half of them down before spitting them all out again, showering me, Bofur and Balin with the soggy, pulp-like lumps that was left of them.

The fact that Bombur who'd eat his own limbs if he could reach them around his rotund form demonstratively crossed his arms and pointedly pursed his lips together was enough indication for the rest of the dwarves to not even bother trying out the food and grumpily eye their hosts instead. For some reason my appetite had been pretty non-existent anyways and when Kíli started a food-fight it was a welcome distraction from my envious glances over at the main table where Thorin was sitting with the cool kids, seriously, I was going to hurt my neck if I kept that up.

Having run out of food to throw and Nori voicing his educated opinion on the music the elves treated us too, Bofur soon got to his feet and stood on his poof as if it was a pedestal, spreading his arms wide as he started the first song. The rest soon followed his lead, cheering, whooping and fists banging on the table as they did.

It could have been the elven wine on empty stomachs that made the lyrics increasingly suggestive or it might have been my fault for pitching in with Gimli's goldie oldie 'when dwarves go swimming with little hairy women', either way it got shadier and shadier on that terrace and not just because the sun set. Never having heard the rest of the lyrics I clasp a hand over my mouth in shock as the most dirty minded of the group (i.e. everyone but Ori and Thorin though it was obvious the latter didn't keep quiet because he didn't know the lyrics) happily carry on while Dori reaches over the table –knocking over goblets and bowls in the process– to cover his youngest brother's ears and ironically Gloín goes as red as his beard. It wasn't hard to guess who taught his son that song.

And that turned out to not even be the highlight of the evening. That was when most elves had fled –including an affronted Elrond and miffed Gandalf– and Thorin pushed himself off of the pillar he'd been leaning effortlessly casual against, goblet in hand and keeping the beat with his boot tapping the stone. The dwarves excitedly awaited his performance when he made the last elf to remain scurry away from behind her harp without even having to look at her. _Bam_! The Force was strong with this one!

The moment he plucked those first strings and high, but soft and ethereal notes drifted over to me, I knew I was in serious danger of drooling. The king simply excelled at the hijacked instrument, regardless of the fact that it was too big even for a tall dwarf like himself, so he stood, oozing regality and style while his fingers danced over the strings bringing forth a heavenly melody that wrapped itself around me.

It was magnetizing to watch him and listen. Hands grabbing a hold of the puffy fabric under my butt I shuffle my poof closer and closer until I was front row and then some. I plant my elbows on my knees, have my chin rest on my entwined hands and the song lures me to lean forward even more. _Bad move_..

Next thing I know I tumble right off my poof and head-butt the instrument, bowling over both instrument and player. There was a loud crack and for a moment I felt my world would end if I'd just broken that handsome dwarf. Not wanting to know just how bad things are I squeeze my eyes tight shut and go to my happy place until I can hear Thorin's dark muttering close to my ear, his warm breath brushing passed it.

"That tickles..!" I giggle, over the moon that the stunning dwarf doesn't appear to even have a scratch on him despite my clumsiness. Realizing what made me say that he hurriedly wriggles himself out from under me until, with a grunt either in victory or annoyance he manages to untangle himself from the wood fragments and snapped strings. Oh and me. I was still somewhere in that heap too. Thorin scoffed in my direction but then offered me his hand to pull me to my feet anyway.

He starts to dust me off with a frown and an exasperated sigh that's not half as convincing as it could be seeing he looks strangely smug at the same time, "Couldn't you have admired my play from a distance?"

Something was off about his voice. There was a hint of something I'd never heard before breaking through the gruff remonstrance. _Was that his teasing tone…_? Wait. Thorin _had_ a teasing tone?

"Well, couldn't you?" he repeats after my initial silence.

"No." my honest admission has Thorin pause mid-brush of my sleeve where splinters stick out at weird angles, his questioning gaze prompting me to hastily add in my defense, "I did try, you know."

"Indeed." he replied, not a question but not quite a statement either. His mouth quirked for the briefest of moments as he finishes dusting off my shoulders, hands resting on them a little longer. _Is that endearment I see flickering like miniature stars in those blue depths_?

"I'll try harder next time." I quickly assure him when eventually he blinks and a split second later his hands do slide off my shoulders and he half turns to leave. Thorin arches a brow in response to my promise and flicks a self-explanatory look at the debris around our feet.

 _Ah_.

Deflated is not a strong enough word to describe how I feel when I drag my feet and hang my shoulders following the troop of tipsy dwarves to a gazebo type of structure upholding a balcony with lofty arches. More than anything I wanted to hear Thorin play harp again and the fact that I had singlehandedly wrecked that possibility was making me feel very crappy indeed. It was probably why Thorin closed his mouth with a snap the moment he had been on the verge of insisting I take one of the guest rooms overhead. One look at my face, expression the volatile mix of being pissed of at myself and a super gloomy depression, instantly clued him in to just how futile the attempt at chivalry would've been. Semi-glad I don't have to resort to a temper-tantrum, I huff my gratitude a little sourly once Thorin has given me the green light to stay with the others for the night, just like I had been doing on the road.

Hoping sleep can somehow make up for the horrible harp-less reality I find myself in –which totally sucks balls!– I unroll my bedroll next to where the dwarf king was making to do the same thing. I should've known that was too good to be true. He obviously set a trap and I went ahead and sprang it. Pretending with a satisfied glint lighting up his steely blue eyes that suddenly the spot furthest away from me was more suitable for his royal butt to repose he and his bedroll marched away. _Playing hard to get, huh_? I grumpily think to myself as I watch him settle under a vine infested arbor. _Well, you better watch yourself, buddy_ , I mentally warn him, _because I knew how to play that game too_!

I demonstratively turn on my other side, back towards him and the other dwarves, lips pouting and arms crossed as I try to will myself to sleep. Yeah. So that strategy obviously never works. Around me one by one the dwarves dozed off until their snoring grew so loud the crickets in the valley must have taken personal offence because even in the intermittent pauses between snores I couldn't hear them anywhere.

Still pouting for my mood simply warranted that particular look to stick on my face for at least another hour, I grudgingly open my heavy eyelids to stare at the shadowy outlines of rosebushes and trees and try to pick up the calming babbling of a nearby brook. The latter of course is practically impossible because of my companions' snoring that's still swelling in volume the deeper asleep the dwarves become but then suddenly I hear a soothing sound amidst it all that, surely, I must've imagined.

I strain my ears and my pout instantly morphs into a broad grin when I hear again that same succession of pleasant _plunking_ and _twanging_ that grows gradually louder as if the source of it is nearing. Excitement tingling along my spine I sit up straight and can just make out Thorin's tall and kingly figure as he expertly avoids tripping over the sleeping dwarves and makes his steady way towards me. The sparse moonlight that peeps through the clouds makes something gold and delicate gleam dully and my heart skips a beat when I spot the small harp in his hands.

Of course! I should have known! That was in the book! The happy surprise immediately cures me of my low spirits and I impatiently wait for Thorin to reach me.

"Play for me?" I whisper once he's close enough. He simply nods and sinks down to sit cross-legged next to my bedroll.

"Perhaps a lullaby will send you off to sleep, if nothing else will, Miss Ruby-"

"Ruby. Just Ruby. Miss makes me feel like an old spinster." I interject, cursing the timing for my pride to be piqued but Thorin seemed not to mind.

"Very well... _Ruby_." he gracefully grants me my request.

"And, yes, a lullaby would be perfect. Oh! And could you hum a bit too?"

For a moment I'm not sure if he's going to comply to my wishes but then he inclines his head at me in that incredibly noble way that makes my stomach do a summersault-

 _Oh_ …..

No, no, no. That didn't mean what logic dictated it meant. Well, that's what I hoped anyway.

Forcing myself to focus on the here and now, I make myself comfortable in my bedroll, a sense of perfect bliss coursing through me as I lose myself in the song Thorin softly murmurs in that bone-tingling deep baritone voice of his and the accompanying melody he plays on the harp carries me off to sleep in no time.


	8. Chapter 8

Hymlume: _Obviously my lips are sealed but Thorin is behaving rather suspiciously isn't he… Could it possibly be… Hmm, I wonder! ;) Thanks for your review, please enjoy the latest chapter!_

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 8**

I wake up to a lot of grumbling and complaining, it seemed this early morning grouchy-pants were in no short supply. Still. They weren't exactly competition to my foul pre-caffeine mood (the obvious lack of coffee had only made that worse) and so I rose to my feet, stretched like an old granny with authentic _umphfs_ and _ows_ included then head over to the cluster of dwarves.

"All right, what seems to be the problem this time ladies? Bed bugs? Ran out of lip gloss?"

Balin shakes his head rather ruefully, "It is nothing, lass. Nothing except that we cannot read the hidden text on our map as long as the moon doesn't match the one of the day on which it was written."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I remember that bit." I mumble to myself, ignoring the old dwarf's furrowed brows seeing he's close enough to have picked up on my enigmatic pondering, "So how long are we here for?"

At this Balin's questioning frown deepens, his face set in a grimace. If the most clearheaded, patient dwarf of the gang is this pessimistic, it can't be good.

"Three weeks." Thorin beats him to it, appearing from among the throng of bickering dwarves and grinding the words out with nothing short of burning hatred.

"Laaaame." I respond, drawing out the word with a practiced bored air, following it up with an inquisitive look around, "Do you think they've got a shopping mall where we could hang out?"

Thorin's forehead creases as he tries to understand what I'm talking about and it only wrinkles more when I list other options in the hope at least one would sound familiar, "KFC? Karaoke bar? … _Playground_?" I add a little self-consciously although I'd kill for a slide right now, it's not like those had age limits and I was so good at getting in touch with that inner child.

"Play?" Thorin repeats with undisguised scorn, although that bitterness might also be due to the fact that it was probably one of the few if not the only word that made sense to him. "We may be stranded here for the time being, but that does not mean the quest is no longer our priority. I suggest we make use of these weeks to do something conducive to reaching our ultimate goal. Prepare for the way ahead. And also keep an eye open for any sign that our hosts are deceiving us." he added darkly, the latter suggestion having the others murmur in agreement and cast suspicious glances over their shoulders.

'Prepare for the way ahead' had sounded pretty swell but for me the first week turned out to be one of utter boredom. The dwarves turned into their usual secretive selves and spent hours pouring over maps other than the one they couldn't read yet, discussing which route would be best, who could be potential allies, as well as dusting off battle strategies the older, experienced warriors amongst them relayed in great detail to the younger ones. I kept aside of most of these little meetings, for one I wasn't overly interested in politics and war tactics, and what was more, it was a little too tempting to just spill the beans and tell them the riddle I didn't need to wait on Elrond to read to know. I had pretty much memorized it right about the same time I lost count of the number of times I watched those movies.

After days of twiddling my thumbs and having bland salads for dinner, though, it was becoming increasingly harder to stick to my new resolution not to influence the plot with my knowledge of it. Everyone was getting restless already to be on the move again and Thorin had taken to ambling (read: storming) through the valley, face taut, shoulders tense and brows set in a brooding line. He resembled some fierce animal in the zoo, pacing back and forth in too small a cage more and more and watching him return to the gazebo area (a.k.a. 'dwarf HQ') looking grave and grim made me feel equally trapped here. Realizing his impatient but confident stride was gradually changing to a wary trudge was demotivating to say the least. After all, if the cocky king was sporting doubts, then probably so should I..

When I tried to follow Thorin on his aimless wandering the last day of the first week, however, mind not made up yet whether I would tell him the message those still hidden moon runes contained once I had caught up to him, he easily managed to lose me and I in turn lost my way as well as the dwarf king. In other words, it was the very opposite of win-win.

To add injury to insult, it took me what I guessed was more than an hour at least to find Dwalin who had semi-intimidated me into meeting with him this afternoon. I hadn't thought a clandestine rendezvous would be his style but then again it was often the quite types that surprised me. Luckily I was spared the embarrassment of having to turn him down no matter how correct he was in seeing how wildly attractive I was because he was waiting for me in a courtyard kind of place where most of the other dwarves were sparring with lethal looking axes, swords and spears.

Oh, oh….

 _Run_!

I don't get very far. If anything this whole adventure has made me slower not faster so far.

Holding on to the hood of my hoody (damn you should have crossed over wearing a sweater!) Dwalin easily holds me back, effectively tethering me to the spot, "Nothing wrong with your flight reflexes, but how about the other one?"

"W-what other one?" I stammer hesitantly and feeling quite frankly scared out of my pants.

"Can you fight, lass?"

"Um…"

"Yes or no?" the warrior turns on the third degree as he drags me closer by my hoody, making me wonder who's going to be the good cop and why the hell it's taking whoever it is this long to come to my rescue.

"Well?"

I wrack my brain to come up with an answer that will both get me out of this (and not _into_ a coma) and convince the seasoned soldier scowling down at me from over his crooked nose not to make me be his personal punch bag for the remaining two weeks, "Uh.. Does button mashing count?" I ask hopefully, hunching my shoulders in anticipation of a tongue-lashing.

Dwalin doesn't say a word but he actually rolls his eyes which could've been a comical sight had it not been for the wide range of razor sharp weapons currently at his disposal.

"Pick your weapon, lass." he simply barks at me, finally letting go of my hoody and I almost trip over my own feet now he pushes me none too gently in the direction of an impressive arsenal laid out before me.

"I'd rather not. Don't know where those've been. Sorry." I hurriedly excuse myself but Dwalin blocks the way forward with his broad, muscular chest all puffed up.

"We won't always be there to protect you." he tells me gruffly, then leans in a bit, adding a confidential whisper, "Just.. Just take _something_ to defend yourself with." For the first time his tone betrays a pleading edge and I realize he's as unhappy with having been assigned the task to make me battle ready as I am to be trained.

"If I do, then are we done here?" I probe cautiously, hope flaring up as Dwalin grunts his affirmation, glad I'm catching on unusually quick today. I didn't doubt nothing short of his unswerving loyalty to Thorin had made him invite me to the sparring sessions of the dwarves, but luckily for me he wasn't adverse to cutting a few corners in the execution of the task undoubtedly set to him by his king. As long as he technically had equipped me with a weapon he would in all likelihood consider he'd kept his word.

"All right.." I muse, gaze straying from one axe to the next and finally deciding to skip the spear and go for a mean looking war-hammer instead. I swear I can hear my spine practically crack when I try to lift if off the ground. Pretending I was merely admiring the remarkable craftsmanship –in all honesty it could've been a crap quality hammer but to me they all looked the same– and moved over to pick up a short sword that looked a lot lighter…but _wasn't_.

Rubbing my sore back I could hear Dwalin's impatient throat-clearing and I hurriedly go for a small throwing axe. This time I manage to actually lift the damn thing off the ground but the handle's kinda slippery and the iron axe head is still heavy enough to cause me trouble and it scrapes over the ground as I decide against straightening my back and instead drag it behind me as I make my way back to the burly dwarf, hunched over and puffing as I go.

Dwalin is pinching the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounds a lot like 'Durin give me strength' while all around the clamoring of weapons clashing has died down and most of the dwarves are looking at the two of us. Great. Just what I needed: an audience consisting of expert warriors while I was still struggling to cover the not so great distance between me and Dwalin with the axe behaving like an obstinate bull dog that didn't want to go for a walk with the weak-ass loser dragging it along.

"Why don't you try this?" Ori appears at my side out of nowhere, holding out a slingshot to me with his two friendly eyes twinkling in support. _Thanked be the sweet merciful deity who reigned this bizarre world for making the good cop finally show up_!

"It's a spare one, you can keep it. Oh, in exchange for one of those bubbly gums." the young dwarf offered in his usual stuttering way, dangling the slingshot encouragingly in front of me for emphasis.

Inside of me a terrible mental battle wages as I contemplate the choice before me. So... That sling thing didn't look very cool. And I wanted to look cool. I wouldn't with that thing. Plus it would set me back one chewing gum, with my stores running low, I should make a better deal out of it. Then again, those other weapons didn't just _look_ heavy and too big too wield, they _were_ actually way out of my league.

 _Hmm_..

On second thought..

That sling was starting to look pretty bad ass!

"Deal." I snatch Ori's trademark weapon out of his hand before I change my mind or he retracts the offer and I face Dwalin afterwards as boldly as I dare.

"Well, I'm armed now so mission accomplished, big guy. You can run off and tell Thorin you've done as ordered."

"You sure you know how to use that?" the dwarf gauges, whisker twitching as if in mockery at the slingshot in my hand.

I feign insult and take on my most aggressive pose (read: about as intimidating as a one-eyed puppy with a limp) and address Ori next to me without unlocking my eyes from Dwalin's stern ones.

"Mind if I grab your nuts?"

"Miss Ruby! I-I…" Ori sputters, instantly turning pinker than the chewing gum I promised him.

" _Ha_ - _zel_ - _nuts_." I enunciate clearly, deliberately pausing between every syllable as if I'm talking to a troll that just had a rather unsuccessful brain surgery.

Mumbling something incoherent and turning an interesting shade of red in his embarrassment, the young dwarf quickly fumbles with the pouch on his belt and hands me his ammo without daring to look up from his nervously shuffling feet.

I try to ignore the fact that most of the dwarves have paused their own training for a closer look and are snickering either at Ori's self-conscious awkwardness or at the prospect of me using that slingshot. Kíli and Fíli are actually ROFLing after I turned pro nut cracker (…see what I did there? _Ha_!) so I take my aim, hitting a moving target was bound to impress Dwalin.

Too bad I missed those two brats. Only by a mile or so. I tried again and managed to hit my toe, but that could have been because the hazelnut just fell out of the slingshot. OK. No need to panic or take those giggles and snorts personal. After all, third time's a charm..!

I ready the slingshot again but the moment I position the hazelnut and pull back the band as far as I can it slips out of my hand and slaps me in the face with an unforgiving _snap_.

"Aw! God _dang_ it!" I exclaim with heartfelt conviction, dropping the slingshot and rubbing my lower lip which is swelling rapidly and already throbbing like mad.

"Yeah, OK, so I'm a fwittle out of pwactice." I try to brush off my pathetic performance though my thick lip makes it difficult to talk normally and my 'so fucking what' glare is totally destroyed by Dwalin's 'no shit sherlock' frown, one brow raised the other furrowed down. … _How do people even do that_?!

"Don't bworry thwough. I gwot this!" I shout at the bald warrior as he shakes his head at me. Desperate to prove myself I pick up the slingshot and brandish it in his direction, which practically speaking meant I was shaking a weird, tiny, wooden, two-pronged fork at him as the rubber band attached to it wobbled unimpressively with the movement.

"Just try not to hurt yourself or get in our way when we're attacked on the road." Dwalin sighs out, for a moment it looks as if he's considering taking that slingshot from me for my own protection but then he simply shakes his head with a snort and starts to walk off.

"So you'll tell Pfhorin to get off my cwase with the cwombulsory weapons fraining, yeah?" I check, wanting to make sure I never had to go through all of this again.

"Aye." Dwalin calls back over his shoulder, adding a little too loudly to be an afterthought for just himself, "You'd kill yourself sooner than any orc ever could."

The others burst out laughing then pretend they're suddenly interested in the local flora as they look away and disperse the moment I whisk around to glower them in submission. I even think I can catch glimpses here and there of coins flashing a metally silver or gold as covertly money changes hands, it wasn't hard to guess what, or rather _who_ , they'd bet on.

Pockets bulging with a fat profit if the jingling sound they make as they walk is anything to go by, Fíli and Kíli are the last to return to their sparring, sending winks and nods in my direction that could've been apologetic and even sympathetic had it not been for the identical shit eating grins that accompany them.

My low growl at them is interrupted when I startle a bit now I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face my assailant only to realize Ori has stayed behind with me, "You'll get the hang of it. Eventually." he says softly, patting my shoulder comfortingly.

 _Damn it_. That dwarf was even cute when he lied through his teeth.

* * *

"Miss Ruby-"

The glare I send in the dwarf king's direction has him gulp back the rest of that sentence and he catches on fairly quickly as to the reason for my non-verbal rebuke.

" _Ruby_ ," he tries again with admirable compliance, his long black hair darkening along with the sky which hurries to nightfall through a palette of indigo and purple, "I trust your skills with your weapon of choice are finely tuned by now?"

His question evokes snickers from Fíli and Kíli who momentarily forget the whetstones and swords in their hands in favor of laughing at my expense. I refrain from throwing something at their cute little heads only because _I_ know that _they_ don't know yet I just gobbled down the remaining handful of sticky toffees on my way back to HQ from the training grounds because it's a well-known recipe to at least attempt to cure the humongous dent in my pride. For my part I couldn't wait to see the horror-stricken looks on their smug, princely faces once they found out they just got sentenced to lifelong caramel depravity. _Oh, sometimes I just really loved how evil I could be..!_

"A sling was it?" Thorin probes, unaware of my vindictive thoughts and drawing my attention back to himself again. I could swear his mouth quirked for the briefest of moments as something suspiciously close to a twinkling found its way to those motionless puddles of deep blue; half-repressed amusement shimmering like ripples on the clear surface of a lake.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I taught Ori a trick or two just now." A blatant lie. Obviously. The scribe had turned out to be pretty lethal with that thing, which only made me feel an even bigger loser for not once having hit the mark I was supposed to hit. Never mind I did give that grasshopper a good scare by clumsily dropping my slingshot right on top of him, that could hardly be ascribed to my improving prowess as a warrior.

"I am sure he appreciated your advice greatly, especially since it came from someone as battle-ready as yourself." Balin remarked in his usual father Christmas way with beady eyes squeezed, gloved hands folded around his round belly and forked beard swaying as he tipped his head in my direction in a gesture of support.

"Yup, wouldn't wanna be the next orc to cross my path.." I snort arrogantly in response to his undeserved praise, conveniently ignoring the sarcasm embedded in it too.

"No, indeed." Dwalin sitting across from him murmured in agreement, though something about his arched, bushy brows and his tone made me doubt he was pitying it for the right reasons.

"I am glad to hear it." Thorin nodded in seeming approval, or so I hoped, and motions to the daintily carved poof opposite him, the only one of four gathered around a tiny and equally elegant table that was still free, "Though of course physical fitness is but one half of the coin. It is our minds that need training too. Why don't you show us your mental aptitude through a little game?"

"Sure. Why not." I take the bait, wondering whether I should have and approaching the three dwarves a little warily, eyes scanning the table until they lock onto an ancient looking deck of cards with frayed edges and stains on their decorated backs.

"If this is to become a duel of minds, perhaps it is time we took our leave, brother." Balin mumbled semi-apologetically and he and Dwalin rose the moment my butt hit the poof, "Besides this game is meant for two, I deem.."

The old dwarf's highly enigmatic and what I supposed must be a meaningful and completely obvious wink in the direction of his king was met with a look nothing short of outrage. It was clear from the way Thorin watched the Fundin brothers go that he considered their sudden departure nothing short of treason.

"So… What are we playing?" I ask, wiggling on my poof in excitement as my eyes flit back and forth from the deck of cards to Thorin's uncharacteristically unnerved expression.

 _Strip poker, strip poker, strip poker, strip poker!_ , I inwardly chant to myself, crossing my fingers under the table and hoping Jedi mind tricks worked in this universe too.

 _"_ The game is called _bennar_ , which means as much as 'ultimate treasure' in-"

"Khuzdul." I blurt out, partly prompted to mask my disappointment now the dwarf opposite me would in all likelihood keep his clothes on and also wanting to make up for acts and/or remarks indicative of stupidity I may or may not have previously displayed on this trip.

Thorin was effectively stunned into silence, genuine surprise gathering in his eyes. And suspicion slowly crept in them too.

 _Oh, oh_..

"How do you know the name of my race's tongue?"

So, the honest answer to that would be: NEEEERD! But that's not what comes out of my mouth, which was sadly nothing more than a pathetic and suspiciously drawn out, "Uuum…"

Truth was, Thorin had just put on his xenophobic cap again and on an intimidating-as-shit-scale of one to five he was coming in at like four.

"It is supposed to be a well-guarded secret." he expertly tightened the thumbscrew.

"I uh.. I spent a lot of time on the road. And inns. You know, like the Prancing Pony. Usually it's so packed you accidentally pick up a phrase or two from other travelers now and then whether you want to or not."

"I see. Tell me, is eavesdropping on dwarves an habitually occurring… _accident_?" The meaningful emphasis was kind of overdone in my humble opinion, his piercing look alone was more than enough to clue me in to his lingering mistrust. And here I had been thinking he'd left most of that behind in Bag End.

Right. High time to get fired up myself and make my stand.

"Not particularly. Though you can hardly blame me for their loud voices carrying over to my ears, tiny or not."

"Yes. They are." he conceded after a moment in a strangely dreamy voice a sharp contrast with his terse tone seconds before, his eyes had strayed to examine my ears, turning a strange misty hue in the process too which only cleared when, blinking wildly, he roused himself as if from a trance, "And no. You are right, I cannot. Blame hardly rests on you for the fact that ale loosens tongues, even when they belong to a race as secretive as ours."

"Exactly my point." I hurriedly concur, relieved my head was momentarily off the chopping block again.

"Very well. I take it that despite your interesting knowledge about us dwarves you are not familiar with the rules of this game?"

I rigorously shake my head then plant my elbows on the table with my chin resting on my folded hands as Thorin goes on to explain.

"The goal is to gather wealth and try to trade your jewels and precious stones for more valuable ones. To win, however, one has to be the first to capture the ultimate treasure. Fail to do so and your accumulated riches count for very little.."

He starts shuffling the cards rather abruptly after this, all of his attention bend to that one task.

"So, what is it?" I probe, impatient to know what he had left out whether on purpose or not.

"What is what?" Thorin replied, obviously faking ignorance and indifference which only served to pique my curiosity even more.

"The ultimate treasure, of course!" I fill in on his behalf. Interestingly his hands freeze at this, causing some cards to tumble from his grasp before he must have answered me for I saw his lips move but barely a sound had come out.

"What?" I lean in closer, brows furrowed and ears strained.

Thorin stirs uncomfortably, fingers fumbling to keep the rest of the pack from escaping his hold too and eventually mumbling with visible difficulty and a voice as small as a shy toddler's, "Heart."

Mine automatically starts racing the moment I catch that word so unwillingly released. Okay. So this turned this dwarvish game into one far more romantic than I'd expected.

"If I manage to get my hands on your heart, I win?" I check incredulously, a bubbly sort of joy tickling the inside of my throat as if I just downed a bottle of soda in one go.

"Your _opponent_ 's heart," Thorin corrects me rather self-consciously and I can swear a faint blush creeps up on his cheeks but in the dim light surrounding us both it's hard to tell, "But yes, that is the general purpose of the game."

After that concession Thorin stoically deals the cards and I'm on my own. Following his lead and occasional clipped instruction I figure out how to play and which cards to use for what purpose and when. I can barely keep track of all the precious stones I squander along the way even though I haven't so much as caught a glimpse of that 'heart' card that Thorin must be keeping ridiculously close to his chest.

About half an hour into the game, and at the point where I start to make sense of it, I'm spurred on to make a bold move when I feel I've finally figured out which of the closely guarded and face-down cards laid out on the table must be the one. It turns out my hunch is way off base and costs me several diamonds. The enticing grin that curves Thorin's mouth and lights up his eyes before he can stop the impulse only increases my eagerness to try again but when my hand hovers over his other cards to attempt a new risky gamble his reaches out to do the same with mine.

The moment my fingertips bump into his it's like I've just put them straight into a power socket; a sensation like electricity shoots through my arm, crawls along the side of my neck and prickles that sensitive area behind my ear. The split second that it lasts is enough to have me take in a sharp breath in delight and my eyes find his almost instinctually. I'm not sure if it has the same effect on Thorin but judging by his suddenly diluted pupils and frozen form I deduce he must have felt _something_.

As if determined to prove me wrong or make me doubt my intuition in this case, Thorin snaps himself out of his captivation, clears his throat as he mumbles a gruff sort of apology and consciously avoids another similar incident from happening. Despite my not so stealthy efforts to make him fail he succeeds for about a dozen turns, until a lucky guess on my side finally has me place my hand on that one card I've been coveting to discover the entire game already.

Forgetting his resolve Thorin practically slams his hand down, his bigger one enveloping mine, thumb and index fingers brushing either side of my wrist while his calloused but soft palm presses against my knuckles. Electricity's switched back on again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. There's no room for my fingers to maneuver, for my free pinky to curl and claw under the edge of the card to take a peek. Not that I needed to see the squiggly runes Thorin had translated earlier to mean heart to know I found it.

I can swear his adam's apple moves ever so subtly in his throat as Thorin clenches his jaw, swallows as inconspicuously as he can and carefully but determinedly pries my hand off the card and drags it to a stack of cards depicting emeralds instead.

Reluctantly I accept the bribe, pouting slightly as I try to think of a way to make him give up his heart to me. Thorin, however, made sure to have his hands, or his eyes for that matter stray anywhere near mine in order not to give away its position again as both of us continue to play card after card, collecting and losing bits and pieces of our respective treasure hoards. As it is a vital part of the game, Thorin deftly manages to rearrange his cards every other turn to make me lose sight of the one I'm after and I end up exchanging gold for silver, rubies for sapphires and gemstones for practically worthless bronze cups.

Still, it could be my overactive imagination but soon I begin to suspect a certain someone is prolonging the game to postpone my admittedly inevitable defeat. Seeing I suck at any Stratego type of game, it's pretty obvious where I've hidden my heart card and that Thorin knows this too. Nevertheless, he stubbornly refuses to go anywhere near it no matter how many riches I arrange around it to lure him in (yes, that was the very opposite of the game's purpose but the very idea of the dwarf king taking my heart for his own was an incredible turn on), and so I'm well and truly drowsy with sleep when another hour passes.

"Perhaps the lass needs some sleep, Thorin." A voice right next to me suddenly states, making me jump in my skin halfway through another drawn-out yawn, the muscles of my wide open mouth pausing in that awkward position when Thorin snaps his head up to face me and Balin who'd walked over from his bedroll. If the increasing volume of snoring is anything to go by us two must be one of the few still awake.

Fully coming to his senses it seemed, Thorin practically catapulted himself off of his wobbly chair as if he'd been sitting on a tightly wound spring. I'm not sure whether it was embarrassment or good old fashioned annoyance that glinted in his eyes like smoldering embers as he bent his back in a hurried half-bow, mumbled goodnight and strode off into the fireflies infested valley of Rivendell.

It was oh so tempting to follow him into the heavily flower-scented and somewhat sultry night but instead I let Balin escort me to my bedroll, my eyelids were so heavy it was like they were made out of lead and I honestly couldn't keep them open for much longer.

 _If Thorin had this much stamina for playing card games_..

I laid down my head on one of those feathery elven cushions with dreamy visions as I pondered others ways his admirable endurance could be applied…


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for hitting that follow/fav button! Hope you enjoy the next chapter! 333**

 _SunnySides: Thanks for your review! Yes, Thorin turned super fluffy, and a lot sooner than I had expected...ah, well, that just shows how much a writer is NOT in control! ;)_

 _Hymlume: Yup, definitely the type of card game I'd love to play with a certain dwarf king myself hehe Not sure I wouldn't faint if he but glanced at my ears in that way though... ;p Thanks for your review, no idea it felt this good to be quoted haha_

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(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, those belong to Tolkien/PJ/New Line Cinema)

 **Chapter 9**

I didn't exactly know how it had come to this, but I was dancing with Thorin. I was pretty sure it wasn't an act of loyalty towards Gandalf to back up his words when he'd ensured our host the rag-tag bunch he'd dragged in was 'surprisingly cultured'. Far more likely scenario was that it was simply a result of the fact that the dwarves didn't want to be outdone by elves…in _anything_.

Apparently that now included dancing when Elrond had the tables cleared away for their annual spring festival. Elves were making music with the weirdest looking instruments and twirling around each other like birds of paradise on steroids.

Not that I was complaining. I'd maneuvered myself across the plaza in such a way that Thorin kept bumping into me (or I into him technically) and eventually he'd grumbled something and taken me in his arms so I'd be less of a distraction now he was competing against Lindir for the prestigious title of queen of the dancefloor.

"Perhaps it's best if you let me lead you." he suggested after I'd stepped on his toes. _Again_.

I'd been pretty lost in those puddles of deep blue that I catch only half of that and just nod fervently when he cocks am impatient brow at me.

True. I hadn't been paying a lot of attention to where I was placing my feet. Then again. The tips of his boots were metal plated (possibly for occasions such as these) so I doubted he'd even felt it.

With my unspoken permission he pressed me harder against his chest and swirled me around, right passed Lindir's upturned nose. A vein above his temple twitched now the willowy elf he'd been dancing with had sprained her ankle and couldn't keep up with his whirlwind pace anymore.

I could swear Thorin's gloating made him even more handsome but when I sighed in admiration his self-assured expression wavered and before I knew it he dipped me backwards. I let out a strangled yelp and inelegant _umphf_ , feeling my spine arch in a way I'm not sure is entirely natural. Straightening again with his help the world spins around in front of my eyes and I'm grateful for the dwarf king's tight hold on me.

At that moment Fíli and Kíli zip passed at warp speed, crown prince sending me a knowing grin and his baby brother giving me a way too conspicuous thumbs-up before they continue whirling around each other flapper style. Ori and Dwalin meanwhile, of all unlikely dance-partners, were floating gracefully across the terrace, in a tucked-away corner of which Bifur was doing his own alternative-looking interpretative dance thing.

Center stage Bofur and Nori were still entangled in their river-dance style dance off, faces red from exertion, floppy hat lopsided on the miner's head and the thief's elaborate hairstyle falling apart. It was hard to tell which of the two was more fanatical. The one to run away with the prize, though, might turn out to be Bombur who was doing an impressive belly dance that made Elrond's eyes bulge and choke on his salad.

Lastly, Gloín and Oín did a marvelous tango while Balin claimed he was too old and his dancing days were over (cheap sell out!) so that Dori was left on his own performing a hip-wiggling _cha cha cha_ while the forked-bearded dwarf's nose got redder and redder as he sat back slurping wine.

What really triggered my heart to flutter like a drunk butterfly, was when the orchestra changed the tune and struck up a waltz. Me and the dwarf king swirled around each other as if caught in a vortex and I wasn't sure the dizzy sensation that made me feel close to light-headed was due to the pivoting movement.

Soon in serious danger of running out of air –how could he keep this up without so much as breaking a sweat?!- Thorin expertly twirled me around my axis the moment the music swelled magnificently one last time before it dwindled into abrupt silence. Dwarf and elf alike instantly clapped now the evening had drawn to a close. That included my dance partner. As a result he'd released my fingers from his own mid-twirl, sending me off like a spinning top.

I spectacularly lost my balance though luckily I tripped over my own feet and fell in the right direction. That direction being the dwarf king who caught me midair and made it all seem as if the whole thing was planned. That damn smirk on his face alone had me believe that he did.

"Woah... Strauss eat your heart out! That was some serious waltzing-"

"Bedtime, I think." Thorin cut me short, returning me to an upright position before retreating his hands from my body and clasping them almost deliberately behind his back as he made to go.

"W-what?" I stutter, still swaying a little on the spot, "Wait.. Are you- Are you hitting on me? Is that like your line?"

"The sun is still some hours away, try and get some sleep." Thorin grumbled back.

My shoulders sag in disappointment but I'm not ready to give up just yet, "So, this is not the moment where we sneak off to make out in some bushes?"

Thorin freezes in his tracks, then calls tersely over his shoulder, "I am not familiar with the procedure you are referring to –he expertly ignores your snort and 'pfff, _yeah right_!'- but I feel it is best if you do not follow us."

"Is that your undiplomatic way of saying the after party's going to involve lap-dancing strippers and I need to take a hike?"

I cross my arms demonstratively over my chest but it's hard to stay angry when Thorin does turn around this time, eyes riddled with confusion and brows knitted together. If ever a dwarf looked more non-plussed than he did at the moment they'd just kissed an elf.

"Er.. I don't know what that means exactly but.. But suffice it to say that it wouldn't be appropriate for a woman to join us."

At that moment Dwalin gruffly called out to his king and friend, most of the other dwarves were already marching away from the terrace in a disorderly line, their boisterous songs filling the entirety of the valley.

"Sleep well, Ruby." Thorin rather hastily took his leave, casting a surreptitious glance or two back at me until he and everyone else of my travel companions was out of sight.

"Yeah. Thanks.." I mumble grumpily but start in the opposite direction when I spot an elf you are not sure is male or female walking over to me with two glasses filled to the brim with wine in his (her?) hands. Sure. Kissing a girl is still on my bucket list. But I would like to know it when I do it. Let's just say I wasn't going to judge Kíli for grabbing that guy elf. After all, all of them wore dresses and with the moon little more than a crescent and nothing but candles, torches and lanterns for light it was anyone's guess who you were supposed to flirt with.

So, being the good and obedient girl that I am –there's a first time for everything–, I retire to my bedroll, press my eyes shut and try not to relive the dancing this evening. Or more specifically the feeling of my dance partner holding me in his arms.

Soon half sleeping, half dreaming of a tea party with orc toddlers, baby dwarves and my very own mini teddy bear, everything seemed to go according to plan but then I'd heard the first splash and hadn't been able to resist temptation. Who would? At this very moment a sexy dwarf's butt would be on display. Well, thirteen butts, to be precise, but I suspected there was one in particular I wanted to glimpse. _Again_..

A little voice inside of my head which sounded so unfamiliar I was pretty sure it must be my conscious tried to stop me, arguing I needed an early start in the morning to prep for Nori's burglary lessons, but it was quickly overruled at the prospect of bathing dwarves. If anything I wanted to find out if their lack of height was any indication.. And no. That didn't make you a pervert.

I tiptoe my way to the fountains which aren't hard to find. All I have to do is follow the tell-tale noise of splashes, laughter and cheering. Chuckling to myself I tiger through the flower covered shrubs and emerge all sandy and disheveled on the other side where I have a clear view of the dwarves. A quick head count tells me all I need to know. There is one dwarf missing..

 _Where did that blasted king go_?!

A branch snaps behind me and, still on all fours, I swivel around to find him standing behind me. With his hands positioned on his hips and his feet planted firmly on the ground his muscles are taut and pronounced, the ones on his chest flexing ever so alluringly when he breathes in and out, eyes piercing mine.

"Stealing a peek?"

Hmm..

 _Was that a joke_?

Oh, oh, play along, quick!

"Well, I am a thief. Stealing's kinda is in the job description." I reply, my voice the equivalent of a cat purring as I scramble to my feet burlesque style. To his credit Thorin stands his ground even when I seductively flick my hair back as I straighten, though it might just be that I don't manage to pull it off and he's simply waiting for me to be on eye instead of crotch level.

"That may be, but I fail to see what you could possibly steal from a group of bathing dwarves. They have shed all possessions after all. Besides," he drawls, leaving a delicious pause as he takes a step closer and my knees inadvertently wobble as moonlight hits his toned body, "aren't I the only one left to be robbed?"

Guilty. On all charges. It was hardly a secret I'd been trying to improve my thieving skills, though me and Nori were obviously making it seem as if _I_ was showing _him_ how it was done –not the other way round. My lengthy stop in Rivendell, a safe haven if a bit boring, was the perfect opportunity to put theory into practice and who better to rob but my own dwarf friends? I didn't want to think too much about why I was acquiring these new skills. I'd cross that bridge when I got there.

So far I had pilfered Balin's chained magnifying glass, the Durin brothers' dwarf equivalent of pin-up postcards, Ori's pink socks, Bofur's tobacco pouch, Bombur's ladle, Bifur's carved figurine of a troll, Gloin's beads, Dori's hairpins, Oin's flask with 'medication', Nori's pipe –stole it, he didn't just 'misplace it'– and Dwalin's whiskers trim set. That left the incredibly attractive dwarf taking yet another step closer as I grope around in my mind for an answer, _any_ answer, as long as it isn't a question involving the words 'I' 'you' and 'touch'.

"Uh.. Yes. M-maybe." my voice grows smaller –and significantly higher– now Thorin's not much more than a yard away.

"Pity I've got nothing on me that would suffice then."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." I swallow hard, my eyes flitting down to the white cloth wrapped tight around his hips before shooting up to meet his again, "that towel might not be worth a whole lot but in the absence of anything else I suppose it'll have to do."

Thorin halts at that and it's my turn to gather my courage and start a predatory prowl in his direction. For a moment I'm not sure if its fear or repulsion that flashes across his face.

Or..

Or was that excitement?

Was that heat reddening the sides of his neck?

He hadn't moved away yet.

… _Why hadn't he_?

Just my luck that I will probably never find out for at that moment his nephews spotted me and started screaming like little school girls, covering their dangly parts as if I was a creepy cross between a voyeur and an alligator. Their panic was contagious and before I knew it Thorin had escaped to the safety of numbers and I had no choice but to raise my hands in surrender, pointedly close my eyes and start on my long way back to my bedroll like a blind man with the teenager-like giggling and half-embarrassed, half-mocking chatter ringing in my ears.

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Thanks to last night's debacle, the next day started way too soon and also way too awkwardly. Fili and Kili, although the first to start screaming, simply laughed it off in the morning with only a little bit of a bashful blush and the others soon followed their example. No harm done then. Well, I still had to pinch something from Thorin –not the dwarf himself no matter how tempting– and I was feeling bummed out that I had no idea where to start.

Wallowing in my misery I barely touched my food once I had joined everyone and sat down to breakfast on the terrace. Either our host had used magic to clean it off empty bottles, confetti and squashed hors d'ouevres or they had house elves to do it for them. Elves enslaving elves.. Yeah, that'd be pretty sick.

If the sunrays pricking in my sleepy eyes was anything to go by it was promising to be a hot day now spring was itching to morph into summer. Just when I wondered whether that would make the dwarf king more or less likely to go for another dive in that fountain, my eyes wandered to the contents of his plate. Seeing the bread roll, grapes and strawberries all but abandoned by a strangely absentminded Thorin a sudden idea struck me. An idea that would force Nori to crank down the drill-sergeant act he was prone to get into lately when I failed to live up to his expectations with what I had stolen from the other dwarves so far. Well. Either that or he was still miffed that I nicked his pipe and then sold it on to his older brother in exchange for a cup of chamomile tea.

I glance over at my tutor who is gobbling down porridge and within seconds he catches on. After receiving the go ahead I set to work. Stealthily I pretend to be of a mind to refill my empty goblet and cross my other arm under it to snatch the bread roll of his plate. I've only just retreated both hands when Thorin stirs, gazes down at his diminished breakfast and lifts his head to stare at me instead.

With no other options I stuff the bread roll in my mouth and swivel the goblet in my hands as if I'm at a cocktail party. All I can do is squeeze my eyes in greeting to Thorin's suspecting look, the fact that I must look like a hamster with both cheeks bulging with food not helping to prove my not so innocent innocence.

For one blissful moment I convince myself I got away with it or at least that he didn't mind. I even think I can discern something close to fondness in those blue depths as Thorin leans forward and gestures to the jug of lemonade and the empty goblet in my hand, expression all friendly helpfulness.

Happily surprised I nod eagerly and hold out the goblet for him to fill, entertaining high hopes that I was – _finally_ – growing on him. I had to be, right? For the moody king to be this good a sport about involuntarily sharing his breakfast with me.

I realized how horribly wrong I was when the first drops of ice-cold lemonade tapped on the crown of my head and trickled further down my hair and face. Wearing a smile I could only describe as pure but contained and slightly evil joy Thorin empties the jug over me then gleefully puts it down accompanied by snickers and belly laughs.

Soaked through I shivered, but not just because that lemonade was _coooold_. And also not just because he'd fooled me. That smile was just something else.. The acorn smile. Yes. That's what I'll call it. Yeah.. That just now was totally acorn smile level…


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: It's been a super long time since I updated this story but thanks for following/faving! Special shout out to Hymlume for reviewing! ;D

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 **Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to The Hobbit, Tolkien and PJ do!**

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 **Chapter 10**

Now that I had mastered the slingshot and could use it with semi-deadly effect –that grasshopper I dropped it on for the second time definitely had a limp afterwards– I felt once again boredom creeping into my brain. And boredom wasn't good. It made me think too much. Mostly about the life I'd been ripped away from.

Oh, how I missed those days where it was just me, my pet cactus Bubbles and his favorite Mexican folksongs playlist on Spotify…

 _Man, life was easy back then!_

And just look at me now. Brilliant career? Down the drain! Fantastic group of friends? Desolate without me! Perfectly romantic and never dull love life? Gone…. Poof! Like a crappy magic trick where the pigeon doesn't come back.

 _Hmm._

Can't say for certain there ever really was a pigeon..

And I'm pretty sure 'magic' isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe, you know, the nudge-nudge, wink-wink department. And swiping left had gotten pretty old pretty damn fast too. To be honest I wasn't sure how much longer Thorin fanvids on a loop would've helped dull those painful stabs in my lonely heart.

And that was a downright scandalous thing to think for a devoted fangirl like myself! I just hoped there weren't any other ones wandering around in Middle Earth 'cause if there were, and they'd heard my outrageous thought, they'd call a tribunal and sentence me to life-long Thorin abstinence as punishment before I could say 'Arkenstone' and 'don't do it' in one hurried sentence to my bearded idol as they dragged me away.

OK. So never mind my love life. Never mind the shitty part-time job and the uninspiring lectures. Never mind the debts and my friends drifting away. Never mind the things I had still wanted to do. The things I had still wanted to say to people I actually cared about and who cared about me in return.

If only I had known this was going to happen. If I had known I'd be sucked into Tolkien's fantasy world..

 _Damn_ …

All those things I could've gotten away with!

I could've actually done the crazy shit on my bucket list. No need to face the music afterwards. Nope. I could've robbed a bank. Set my old high school on fire. Actually posted that fluffy Thilbo story and include an overly sweet happy ending to the delight of my army of followers. Boldly kissed that one guy I had a year long crush on instead of merely nodding along with every Matthew Hussey video egging me on to do just that only for me to chicken out last minute (read: not go back with my jade citrus mint green tea I had successfully ordered without my tongue and brain messing up the order _and_ correct pronunciation when he'd spelled my name on the paper cup wrong… _again_ ). I could've actually tried the things I was too much of a coward to have tried even though I hadn't known that _that_ life was going to end so soon.. Sadly, I wasn't even sure if that would've been motivation enough to pluck up the courage needed to-

 _Stop_.

I wasn't going down that road. Throwing self-pity parties was something the old me did. Not the _new_ me. The me in Middle- _Fucking_ -Earth. No. I was just going to do what any self-respecting therapist would always discourage me to do: come on in sweet old denial and make yourself comfortable 'cause you're here to stay!

Well. _That_ and turn into a human overhead-projector. I was going to project and take out all of my worries on others in a brilliant 'the-harder-I-ignore-my-issues-the-sooner-they'll-go-away' move. That was probably why I slyly invented elf-bashing hour. And what a slamming success it was.

"..and they're so… _shaven_." I end my daily rant against the elves with my price winning 'the fuck's up with _that_?!' look which I had perfected in the astonishingly short span of three days. There was a general murmur of agreement followed by many a mumbled 'oh aye, oh aye..' and a grumbled 'true enough!' from Gloín, Bofur as usual exclaiming boisterously over the others an overly blithe and triumphant: 'faces like a babe's buttocks!'.

I feel slightly sorry for Kíli who rather self-consciously rubbed his face as if to assure himself his stubble still covered it, setting him apart from the elves they insulted even though it was a far cry from his fellow dwarves' bushy, braided and long beards. Still. Overall I felt reenergized by my successful attempt at the noble art of instigation. And the dwarves had been so quickly persuaded to join me too, I'd never felt so grateful for literally centuries of animosity between their race and our hosts. After all, it made my shameless propaganda campaign so much easier. As long as I wasn't overheard and I didn't take this further it was the perfect way to distract myself from my gloomy thoughts. I had everything under control. Even these proud and stubborn dwarves wouldn't be stupid enough to mount a full scale rebellion against those they relied on for food…. _right_?

Speaking of which. The food alone might actually be a justified reason for an insurgence. All the salads and vegetables could be an appropriate feast for Radagast's rabbits, but for thirteen dwarves and a human it was hardly sufficient. Nor nearly as much appreciated even if it meant we wouldn't starve. It took all of our combined willpower not to resort to going through our own -infinitely tastier- provisions like vacuum cleaners would through dust, for that would inevitably mean we would run out way too soon once we got this crazy caravan thing going again.

"Ugh.." I let out a dissatisfied sigh, picking bits of cabbage out of my teeth, "I don't mind going vegan for a day or two but its been weeks since a decent meal. I could eat a damn orc!"

At my heartfelt exclamation the others snap their heads in my direction with looks of utter disgust, prompting me to add defensively, "I wouldn't _really_ eat an orc, obviously. I mean those must taste beyond gross if their smell is anything to go by. But, you know, I'm hungry enough for meat that I'd metaphorically speaking would eat an orc.." Silence reigns on and I shift a little awkwardly on my poof.

"OK, never mind-"

"I would eat an orc." Dwalin cut me short, and the almost confessional glint in his eyes told me he meant it. All heads, including mine, turned to look at him in one, simultaneous and slow-motion like movement as if everyone was watching a tennis match for the elderly.

Oh.

 _Oh_..

Did that mean orc was part of his usual diet? Wait. Did I really want to pursue that line of inquiry? The dwarven warrior was scary enough as he was without the added image of him ripping off and chewing on orc heads as he had done with that grilled fish in the first movie.

"Me too." piped up Bombur in a uncharacteristic squeaky voice as if he only dared admit to this now Dwalin had. Other dwarves were nodding, some putting their heads together for deliberation before mumbling a little embarrassedly in the affirmative.

"Um, yeah, that's.. Um.." my voice trails off as I inadvertently picture an orc turning on a spit and when my stomach growls hungrily in response I quickly shake my head.

Wow. Two weeks with no meat and ale on the menu and these dudes were willing to eat the most not tasty looking creatures in the whole of middle earth (yes, I included Grima Wormtongue and Alfrid in that equation, and yes, I also had come to the conclusion which dwarf would be on top of the opposite list with the speed of light). _Damn_. If we stayed here another week these dwarves might take to cannibalism..

I pick up movement in the periphery of my vision and recognize Balin trudging back into HQ. He makes for an empty cushion on which he sinks down with a rather tired sigh. None of the others have noticed his return yet. Or that he had even left for that matter. Everyone -me included- had been too busy throwing proverbial mud at the elves. And he isn't the only one that had slipped away unheeded.

Too late I recall the only half registered moment in which Thorin had gotten to his feet, thrown his councilor a meaningful gaze, and simply made to leave. Too caught up in criticizing Elrond's diadem –so _girlish_ , pfuh!- I hadn't thought much of it at the time but now, casting my eyes upwards to find a shiny silvery orb peeping out from behind wisps of clouds, it all suddenly made a lot of sense.

Shit! Had I been a total idiot and missed that glowy moon runes thing!?

Scanning the faces gathered around me it doesn't take long for me to realize Thorin's still missing. As the others finally stir and awaken from their disturbing food fantasies, they at once fire inquisitive and demanding questions at Balin while I jump to my feet and head in the direction he had come from.

Pretending to make a beeline for some bushes to pee behind I instead hurry down the path concealed by it. Cursing under my breath whoever designed this place with leisurely and winding strolls in mind rather than including timesaving short cuts, I make my way to a landing of sorts and come to an abrupt standstill as I distinguish Thorin's regal posture at the bottom of the flight of stairs to my right.

He is surrounded by shadows and fireflies as he watches -and most of all _listens_ \- intently and unseen while the tall figures of Gandalf and Elrond cross over an archway, their intense discussion making them oblivious to any eavesdroppers. Gossiping in open air. Tss! What were they thinking, I grumble grumpily to myself as I tiptoe a little closer and lean over the balustrade to better hear what they were saying. Not that I didn't have a hunch that made my stomach churn and tighten.

"I deem it unwise to enter that mountain, Gandalf. The beast has slept soundly for over sixty years, why risk waking it up?"

The wizard increased his pace to keep up with the long strides of the elf at his side, one hand clenched into a fist, the other grasping his staff like a vine, "It is about time Erebor is retaken. For all we know the dragon has long since choked on its gluttony and greed."

"Then he would not be the only one liable to such an end." Elrond countered, tone tinged in wary bitterness, "Have you forgotten how Thrór lost his mind? How Thráin fell too? The line of Durin is cursed when it comes to the gold Smaug stole."

"Yes. Yes. There is, admittedly, a risk." Gandalf conceded reluctantly, but he immediately went on, voice growing louder and more impatient, "But doing nothing is taking the greater risk. Besides, my Lord Elrond, the dwarves of Ered Luin have a legitimate claim when it comes to the mountain. _He_ is heir to the throne. It _is_ his birthright."

There was a heavy and tense silence and Elrond abruptly froze in his tracks. Gandalf halted too, it was clear even from this distance that he wanted to speak, offer more arguments in favor of the quest he had set in motion but he restrained himself and waited, just like me and Thorin did. At last Elrond turned to the wizard and spoke again.

"Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will be different? That he is not contaminated by the same madness that ran through his forebears' veins?"

I cringe at the elf's words and can't even imagine what must be going through the dwarf standing so strong yet incredibly vulnerable but a few paces ahead.

It was the wizard's turn to pause before he said both determinedly and a tad willfully, "I'd rather take my chances with Thorin ruling the Lonely Mountain than cling to a foolish hope that a firedrake from the north will slumber for eternity; never do our enemy's bidding."

It wasn't just Elrond that seemingly shuddered at that ominous statement. I could see Thorin stir slightly and a veritable shiver ran down my own spine while Gandalf trembled a little with his fervor and conviction.

"It is a gamble I am not sure other guardians of middle earth will approve of, Gandalf." the elf eventually told him wisely and they started to move again.

"O-other guardians..?" Gandalf muttered with what I suspected was feigned puzzlement. Both he and Elrond disappeared around a corner and I knew the debate was going to be prolonged in the presence of Saruman and Galadriel, the outcome of that meeting likely to be unfavorable for me and the dwarves.

For a moment I was tempted to follow the two, maybe push Saruman 'accidentally' over the edge of that dizzyingly high cliff to save the Fellowship a lot of drama in the future but the sight of Thorin's sagged shoulders and the way he lowered his head made me instantly change my mind.

Ever since arriving in middle earth I hadn't fully realized that, in this world, all of that 'a mighty people brought low' and 'I ate your people like a wolf among sheep' stuff was _real_. Smaug was a living, fire-breathing, home-stealing, treasure-hoarding, overgrown and smelly lizard that had taken the dwarves' home from them. And Thorin was the one to have carried perhaps the heaviest burden in having to lead his kin in the absence of his grandfather and father. Had had the immense responsibility of building a new life far away in the Blue Mountains..

Here, right in front of me, stood a dwarf that wasn't just a character in my favorite book. He was _real_. He was made out of flesh and bone. He had fought for survival. Ate. Slept. Breathed. …. _Suffered_.

It might all have happened almost two centuries ago, according to the book time-line in any case, but it must still hurt him. An open wound that hadn't yet healed. Perhaps never would if we didn't make it to the mountain and chase off that slithering worm with a firm and justified kick up his backside. Never mind I had no idea whether worms even had asses to kick, and if so where the hell they were located, I feel my heart starting to throb, to pump blood faster through my body as I feel overwhelmed by a desire to help Thorin win back the Lonely Mountain.

Realizing the colossal weight resting on the exiled dwarf king's shoulders also came with an awareness of just how long he had been lugging it around. If my memory served me well than in a handful of years Thorin would be celebrating his two hundredth birthday…

 _Holy guacamole_..!

Despite the weird timing for my thoughts to start to race, I fervently try to remember that conversion formula I'd googled on comparing dwarf ages with that of humans. Slowly but surely I did the math in my head. Then checking it two more times a little feverishly to make sure I got it right. The good news was that I was around Fili and Kili's age and that would make me at least a grown up according to dwarf standards. Also, if my calculations weren't too off, than Thorin was about twenty years older in human years. Hmm. That wasn't too bad. Barely forbidden romance age gap numbers really. My heart leaped on its own accord, inadvertently bringing me back to the present.

Thorin still stood there rather forlorn but then suddenly straightened, lifted his chin and started to leave with a resolution in his step I couldn't help but admire.

"Thorin, wait!" I called out, dashing down the stairs two, sometimes even three steps at a time.

For an instant he tensed up, almost coming to a halt but then quickly increased his pace as he replied strainedly without even looking over his shoulders at me, "Not now, Miss Ruby."

"Please, just.. Just wait a sec would ya- _Umphf_!"

Not expecting him to actually obey my plea the second time I utter it, I bump face first into his back -nose flattened between his shoulder blades- as he suddenly stands as still as a statue.

"Ahem, sorry, didn't think I'd get here this fast.. Or that you would actually stop." I mumble apologetically as I take a step back and rub my sore nose. I can hear Thorin take a deep steadying breath that fills me with a pity I know he would never accept even though it was incredibly close to tumbling over my lips in words of support, and he slowly turns around to face me. Not look at me. His sapphire eyes at first waver and cut back from left to right as if searching for hope before eventually flitting down rather ruefully.

"As you requested, I am waiting." he said simply at your silence, his tone hollow.

"Yes, um.. So.. What I wanted to say." I take a deep breath too, hands balled into fists in the inside of my hoody's unipocket, "Don't let what Elrond just said get to you. He doesn't know you." I more or less blurt out and swallow hard as Thorin looks up at me, blue eyes flashing briefly, then he asks in genuine fascination and incredulity, "But you do?"

"Um.. Well, I'm getting to know you. A little more every day." I offer, managing but a small smile no more than a unconvincing tug at the corners of my mouth now he doesn't avert his rather piercing gaze.

"Look, I know we're pretty much polar opposites in a lot of things. Possibly in everything." I plow on trying to somehow find the words I want to say, "But I also know that you're one tough dwarf, and you will beat that gold sickness. You will."

His brows furrow and I'm not sure if it is a sign of apprehension, doubt, or maybe even mockery.

"You have such faith in me?" his voice sounds strangely broken and the unmistakable hurt that tinges it cut me to the core without warning.

"Yes, Thorin. I _do_." I answer him with a weird emotional wobble pushing up my own voice half way, making me compensate by emphasizing that last word with all the determination I truly feel. I don't really understand the surge of anger that goes through me at seeing the dwarf opposite me continue to stare at me in something close to wonder, making me practically bite out reprovingly, "And so should you.."

Before he can say anything I brush passed him, stalking through a moon-lit Rivendell without really knowing where I'm going. With every step I take the key around my neck dangles with the rhythm against my collarbones. It's as if its weight has increased significantly and it's now heavy enough to effectively choke me or else bruise my chest at the intermittent impacts.

I reach up and clutch the key in my hand through the folds of my hoody to keep it in place now something like panic swelled inside me. This key was vital to the quest. It literally hinged on it. And it was in my possession even though I had no idea how it had come to me. What was more. I was keeping it from its rightful owner. From the descendant of the long line of Durin. From the heir to the throne. But all of that didn't mean nearly as much to me as realizing you were keeping it from Thorin.

From _Thorin…_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: A special shout out to Queen MariaTheresia & Hymlume for leaving a review: Thanks! :D_

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Dori had made me a dress. _His_ words. It looked as shapeless as Dobby's smudgy pillowcase to me. Hell that could be called tailored compared to this atrocity. I was convinced it had somehow been sucked into a portal to an alternate universe, picked up the most repulsive flower pattern from whatever messed-up planet it had visited and returned to the silver-haired dwarf's nimble hands where he had personally tortured it with a needle and thread to the point where it silently seemed to beg someone, _anyone_ , to end its miserable life.

Interpreting the gleam in my eyes not as me being sympathetic to the garment's plight but as nothing short of murderous intent, Dori drew back a little, the dress draped over his arm like an oversized napkin swaying as if it was a limp, dead chicken. A _very_ dead chicken. A very dead chicken with frilly frills, way too much pink splashed all over it, and crochet hems that had been fashionable right about the same time cavemen switched from zebra to leopard print.

"Just try it on." Dori urged me, "It's not going to bite you, Miss Ruby, so there's no need to glare at my creation like that."

Pfff. Didn't he know my glare didn't brake for anyone? Besides, the dress might not bite me but I would definitely bite it if given the chance. _And doing it a favor too, people_!

"Now we're about to be on the road again I can't bear to have you this scantily attired. The others might be too cowardly to tell you but it is bordering on unseemly, Miss Ruby. Why, your legs are clearly visible, hardly leaves anything to the imagination. It's bad enough you've had to travel like this through the Wilderland, here in Rivendell I have finally found the time to remedy your… Your overly _revealing_ clothes."

"Revealing?!" my brows shoot up in something close to indignation and I'm not sure if I want to snort or snap at the dwarf's disproportionate choice of words.

"Dori, I'm more covered up than a mummified nun!" I exclaim at the top of my voice, waving an annoyed hand up and down my very glamorous (NOT!) outfit for emphasis and fixing the dwarf with a pointed look. I was already grumpy enough for having had to get up way before the sun because these dwarfs needed to sneak out Rivendell's backdoor to avoid the council's decision on the quest and now the silver haired hobby-tailor had thought it the right moment to remind me just how uncool I looked.

Dori shook his head in either pity or exasperation and placed one hand on his hip, 'dress' still dangling in the nook of his elbow while he jabbed a finger at me, "And I tell you that according to dwarf standards the shape of your figure is as clear as carved stone!"

"I'm wearing torn, moss-stained, muddy jeans and a baggy hoody! Seriously, I'm about as sexy as a donkey with a sombrero!" I hiss back, growing equally impatient and miffed. For good measure I follow this up by demonstratively tugging at my hoody with such vigor I'd take to the sky any second if I wasn't careful. It was clear Dori wasn't convinced in the slightest by all of it. He pursed his lips and held out the garment to me with such sudden vehemence it nearly hit me in the nose.

"No." was all I said, arms crossed over my chest.

Dori's eyes narrowed almost slyly and my gut instantly churned in trepidation, "I daresay that key of yours could use the extra layer too, Miss Ruby."

That got my attention. Instantly.

Oh….. _shoot_!

So, as I had thought, Ori had indeed fessed up to his older brother about walking into me wearing nothing but my birthday suit and Thorin's sizeable heirloom.

Whoops, that sounded almost dirty...

 _Hehe_.

Dori tapping his heel quickly dragged me back to the plot. So did the rather audacious lifting of his chin, "Of course the king might still find out if a little bird happened to hop on his shoulder and whisper in his ears where to look for the stolen object that is merely indispensable in entering his long lost kingdom and the consequent reclaiming of his entire homeland."

He said it with an increasing expression of superior sneakiness while I cringed with practically every word.

Great. As if I hadn't started to feel guilty enough about that without this cute little snipe effectively rubbing it in even more.

 _Hmmpf!_

Clearly this dwarf knew how to blackmail.

What to do.. What to do..

I eyed the flower-strewn monstrosity warily, resignation slowly but surely settling in the pit of my stomach like a week old pizza.

Yeah. Exactly. _Ugh_.

Weirdly enough the moment I had snatched the dress out of Dori's hand and pulled it over my head I actually feel more exposed as opposed to more decently attired. Maybe it was the fact that this officially notched the number of dwarves knowing my secret up to five.

Sure. Five out of thirteen in total wasn't abysmal exactly. But it wasn't a stroke of genius on my part either that I'd managed to mess up that many times already. I really did have to play my part better or else risk a one-way trip back to the Shire. I wasn't even sure Bilbo would take me in...

A vision of being brusquely goodmorning-ed by every single hobbit in that hilly paradise I'd found myself so suddenly in over a month ago now filled my head and I felt an invisible hand squeeze my heart like an overripe orange at the prospect.

Doing my utmost to ignore the queasy throbbing of that blasted organ I busy myself with lacing up the dress. I've only just pulled out my hood from under it after considerable effort and accompanied by Dori's scandalized scowl when the rest of the circus shows up, laden like bearded donkeys with their packs, bedrolls and weapons.

The effect as they are introduced with Dori's version of dwarvish haut couture, possibly for the first time in their enviably long lives, is instant.

Balin's polite smile was definitely a little more constrained than usual in a possible attempt to keep in a chuckle and he elbowed Dwalin conspicuously in the ribs seeing his whiskers were twitching dangerously. The two princes clapped hands over their mouths, cheeks puffed up with air so they looked like a pair of hamsters that had just stuffed their faces with acorns. Seriously. If those two didn't breathe soon their already bulging eyes would pop. Serve them right too, mind. _Scruffy clowns_!

Nori actually had the nerve to guffaw openly, pointing at me too, while Bofur thought it was funny to tip his hat and twirl around his axis as if admiring his own invisible dress fanning out while his cousin Bifur not even seemed to have noticed anything different about me and instead dreamily followed a butterfly flutter passed. The miner's corpulent brother, on the other hand, eyed me semi-envious, glancing back at his round form then at me and back again as if imagining a similar garment on him and how it would slim him down. I doubted it would be able to pull off that considerable stunt. After all, it hadn't exactly done wonders for my uninspiring proportions either.

Then there was Gloín who was too obsessed with peering in his money pouch every five seconds to count and recount his coins, not wanting to leave even a penny behind. So that left Ori and Oín as the only ones that listened to Dori's profuse explanation of his original design –and it needed explanation all right!- though I noticed how the latter's ear trumpet was suspiciously sticking out from his pocket and the partly if not wholly deaf dwarf wouldn't catch a word. Ori of course had no choice but to fawn over my dress, filial duty alone prevented him from giving his true and honest opinion on what his brother-turned-mother-hen had had the stinking guts to produce.

Thorin strolled in last, chest all puffed up and shoulders squared and obviously having intended to make an entrance and stride passed in a self-important way to once again lead us all forward. Seeing me in a cocoon of pink flowers and frilly hems he stopped dead in his tracks. For a very awkward moment he simply stared, eyes glued to the psychedelic flora and a frown knitting his brows together so much I wasn't sure they'd come loose again.

At long last he ripped his gaze away, cleared his throat very forcibly and pretended he hadn't noticed my displeased and sulky look. Or the dress that had caused it for that matter. He was looking anywhere but at it. At least being in it I wouldn't have to go through that trouble, I thought a little bitterly.

Pouting my lips more than a little petulantly I shouldered my backpack and fell into step with the others as the exiled dwarf king give the sign and all of us trooped out of the Valley of Imladris and made our way up a steep mountain path like a row of wobbling penguins.

Inwardly I felt slightly relieved Thorin hadn't commented on my new look for it made the others almost automatically copy this behavior. It was embarrassing enough as it was and I could do without any smartass remarks, half-repressed snorts and jaunty glances.

There was none of that. Maybe the odd amused chortle behind my back but nothing more. Must be the realization that we were on the road again. That we had left the safety of Rivendell behind us and every step took us farther away from the protection of elves and wizards and closer to a humongous dragon that would be more than a little cranky once we woke him up..

Ever since yesterday evening, when I'd overhead Gandalf and Elrond talk of the insanity running through Thorin's bloodline, and Thorin _knew_ I had overheard, I could barely look him in the eye. I had pretended to be fast asleep when at long last I had heard the king's footsteps return to all of us late last night and he had already been gone on a final solitary wandering this morning when I had been woken up by Dori. Whenever my eyes inevitably did stray to rest on Thorin's back a weird leaping sensation stirred in my chest, as if a frog was trapped behind my ribs and had tried to jump out only to smack against the unforgivingly hard bone and slide defeated back to nestle itself between my organs until the next desperate hop for freedom.

That damn frog inside of me wanted to stop lying and help. Tell Thorin all I knew. Why was not doing that so damn hard all of a sudden? And why was the prospect of doing just that even harder?! The only positive effect of all of my gnawing guilt and worry was that my own dress drama became instantly less significant. What was more, I felt increasingly reduced in size somehow by the enormity of the quest before me. And there was still so much trouble ahead!

Over the next few days I wracked my brain to tackle the impossible task of thinking of a game plan that would prevent capture by goblins, spiders and elves; would get rid off a dragon preferably without any collateral damage (read: the entire population of Lake Town); and would stop a war from taking place. In short, no biggie. Piece of cake. Walk in the park… Never mind there were orcs, wargs, trolls, a dragon, bitchy elf kings and icky Alfrids crawling through the bushes of said park.

Despite the fact that travelling up and down those infernal misty mountains gave me ample thinking/plotting time no brilliant idea had as of yet formed in my head. Instead, the only result of my laborious track to reach the other side was that my backpack straps were cutting in my shoulders and that my blisters got blisters of their own.

I missed Bob. My loyal, unpaid, hairy, four-legged car that never broke down but simply trudged on with me on his back and only asked for a sugar lump or two in return every now and then. I'd never appreciated how comfortable that saddle was, how soothing the rocking motion of the pony, how much easier it was to travel. And then I remembered why he wasn't here, dragging me up these steep and zigzagging paths. Yes. I'd been sorely mistaken in his character. Rather gave me that feeling my exes tended to leave me with. _Damn the universe that made me a total sucker for disarming, warm, chocolatey brown eyes-_

A sudden, mental image of deep blue, sapphire eyes set under stern brows and framed by long, dark hair hijacked and contradicted the thought before I could finish it. For a moment I stood still on the steep path, puzzled by what seemed the appearance of yet another frog springing to life in my chest. Judging by the sensation going through me it must be performing a wide range of acrobatic feats with a strange sort of wild enthusiasm.

Halfway what I figured felt a lot like the frog doing a gravity defying somersault the darkened sky overhead lit up with lightening and a split second later a loud, terrifying rumbling kicked off a familiar storm.

 _Shit_.

 _We'd reached that part in the story already_?!

The rain, which had been present as a steady drizzle for the entire day already, now gushed down in thick droplets that the wind seemed to deliberately hurdle towards me and the small, huddled figures behind and in front of me. Because of the roaring and crashing thunder I could hardly hear anything of what the dwarfs shouted to each other. It didn't really matter. Survival instinct had kicked in automatically and I didn't need the occasional push in my back to run ahead in search of shelter. Soon out of breath I puffed and gulped for air but every time I opened my mouth it was like a firehose was aimed at my face. Spluttering and half drowning I blundered on and swallowed down the cold rain. Great. _Now I was bound to have to pee too_! _As if being pummeled by heavy rainfall and a biting wind lashing against me like a whip wasn't uncomfortable enough_!

Even more buckets of icy water were being turned overhead and the rock underfoot had become more slippery than a snail's armpit by now. My sneakers were obviously not made for this kind of hiking. _Any_ kind of hiking really. The only advantage of the howling wind was that I could curse as loudly as I wanted and to my heart's content as I slithered, slipped and stumbled all the winding way up and no one was any the wiser. I was so focused on not losing sight of Bifur battling against the storm in front of me that I almost forgot the mountain I was climbing was partly stone giant.

Suddenly the path shuddered and I was smacked against the side of it, shoulder slamming hard against its unforgiving surface. I let out a yelp in pain then screamed my heart out as the world I desperately tried to anchor myself in seemed to move. There was a hard push against my back and I tripped landing face down on rock with water gushing over it in streams as thick as rivers. But at least the solid surface underneath me did not move, did not have tremors run through it rattling my bones.

I looked back and squinted against the lashing rain. I could just discern pale faces peeping out from under dark hoods and mantles moving away on a giant's ragged limb before coming closer again alarmingly fast. I screamed again though I could not hear it in the din of the storm, ducked my head and folded my arms protectively around it. There was a resounding crash and when I dared open my eyes again and look up I was surrounded by a bunch of seriously shaken dwarves, every single one of them wide-eyed and panting like mad.

I was hoisted to my feet by Fili and Kili while Bofur, Gloin and Thorin offered hand-ups to the three Ri brothers, Balin and Bombur who had managed to form an impromptu pile of entangled limbs and beards. Clearly not Circue de Soleil material. But I wisely kept that info to myself. This had turned into a bad enough day for everyone already. _And it could potentially get even worse_..

Soon we were shepherded into the cave Fili and Kili had spotted and Dwalin had scrutinizingly sniffed around in before anyone else was allowed to enter. I hovered at the threshold and cast a suspicious look inside. Clearly not as wary as I was the collection of very bedraggled dwarves gratefully explored their shelter with a far less critical eye, their boots making soggy and squashy sounds while their drenched clothes dripped on the dusty floor leaving trails of watery prints and puddles.

"Thorin." I call out to the dwarf king standing with firmly planted boots in the center of the cave to oversee the whole who-is-going-to-sleep-where-and-next-to-who business which always took these girls ridiculously long. Seriously. The average pajama party I'd been too had had less drama or sniggering at each other's bunny slippers and hairpins.

"Thorin!" I tried again now my voice had obviously been drowned by the sound of the raging storm outside. Leaning against the entrance to the cave I felt my body go numb with the cold wind and rain blowing in from behind.

"Thorin!" I cupped my mouth now but it seemed to have little effect, "Thorin! _Thorin_! Oi!"

Finally the dwarf snapped his head in my direction and frowned in confusion at seeing me loitering nervously on the threshold. I could tell he was annoyed that I proceeded to wave him over like a waiter but he grudgingly stomped over nonetheless.

"We have to go." I told him through teeth that had begun to chatter like mad.

Thorin looked completely nonplussed. Also not very impressed by what he must perceive as a very badly timed and irrational, 'girly' fear of dark, drafty mountain caves.

"Continue? In _this_ weather?" he asked incredulously, "It would be foolhardy to attempt it. You had better thank Mahal that we found shelter-"

"You don't understand." I cut him off, my voice raised to be heard over the wind, "We can't stay here. It'll be safer to take our changes outside." I try to convince him, knowing that I'm not offering any convincing arguments. _But how can I do that without risking seriously derailing the plot_? _Why would he believe me_? _And how would I explain that I knew what was going to happen before it happened_?

Thorin stared at me, rain slashing against one half of both of me. The way his wet hair alternately was clawed at by the strong wind and then stuck to his temples while his piercing blue eyes were fixed unwaveringly at mine and raindrops clung to his brows and nose made for a pretty stunning look. If the situation hadn't been so dire and I hadn't felt this panicky I would've gladly stayed in this frozen moment a little longer to have it fixed on my retinas for later perusal.

Not understanding Thorin tilted his head and I could tell he was on the verge of shaking it and refuse to listen anymore to my admittedly insane suggestion but I don't give him the chance to.

"Thorin. You've got to trust me. _Please_." the tone of urgency has the dwarf in front of me refrain a moment longer from making a decision. Both of us still hover at the entrance of the cave, hunched over against the violence of the storm that seems of a mind to both push me in and drag me out with it.

And then the time for thinking was over. There was a dull sort of scraping that was yet so shrill and reverberating everyone heard it. _Felt_ it. Whirling around to face the cave's interior me and Thorin could only watch powerlessly how not the floor, as I had expected, but the wall at the far end of the cave split open.

Acting on instinct I yank Thorin out of sight by his tunic, flattening the both of us against hard rock and peering cautiously around the jagged and gaping mouth of the cave. Just like in the book dozens of goblins crawled through the crack that had appeared, yipping and cracking whips as they swarmed inside. They easily overpowered the caught off guard dwarves, grabbing them by their arms, legs, collars, hoods and even beards and dragging them back with them, clearly intending to take our struggling and howling companions further and further into the very bowels of the mountain…


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

I only just beat him to it when Thorin instantly makes to sprint after his kidnapped companions. OK. Maybe semi-kneeing him in the stomach wasn't the most dwarf-friendly way to slow the king down. But it was vital he wouldn't undergo the same fate as the others. And for that, timing was everything. Luckily Thorin doubling-up with a heartfelt _grmpfh!_ bought me the precious seconds I needed to make sure the last goblin had slipped between the crack with a last backward glance over his knobbly shoulders. _Now_!

Trying my best –and praying Thorin would follow my example- I dash into the cave with the weird mix of running at full speed and tiptoeing at the same time to make as little noise as possible. I must look like a dressage horse that should never have quit his daytime job. Still. Probably the least of my worries right now.

By some miracle me and Thorin manage to slip inside what little is left of the crack splitting the wall into two. With a deep and grinding sort of thud the hidden entrance reseals itself a hairbreadth behind us both.

For a moment I simply stay where I am, pressing my back and heels against the pockmarked and uneven surface of the wall. The sounds of goblins and dwarves alike die away and the orange glow of torches equally grow fainter as the group moves away.

I turn my head in Thorin's direction. Well. I can't actually tell whether or not he's there. It's too damn dark to know for certain and my eyes sure are taking their sweet time to adjust. With my surroundings this pitch-black, how the hell was I going to mount a rescue-

 _…_ _..Hmmm_.

Pitch-black huh?

"Come on, we need to hurry or risk losing-" Thorin abruptly stopped himself short, "Ruby?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you touching my face?"

 _Um_ ….

"You know. Just checking if you've still got everything. That wall closed a millimeter behind us." I explain with an air as if even the dumbest kid in class would see the logic in this.

"Indeed." Thorin replied, sounding highly doubtful.

"Eyes.. Ears.. Mouth.." I sum up out loud as my fingers boldly go where I hope no fangirl has gone before, "nose!"

My last happy exclamation prompts Thorin to finally intervene. His fingers close themselves around my wrist, y index finger freezing mid-tap of the tip of his nose.

"I think I'm still in possession all of my facial features." he assured me in a deadpan voice. It really was too bad I couldn't see the accompanying stoic expression on his face though I thought I could just distinguish his eyes glinting like embers in my direction.

"Yes, I agree. But good thing I checked. Right?"

Another blank 'Indeed' followed by the sound of shuffling feet carefully exploring the slanted ground below.

"Woh, woh, wait!" I whisper hurriedly.

"Why?"

"Your turn."

A strained silence lingers for a moment until Thorin probably realizes I can't actually see his questioning frown, "What?"

"Um, I might have lost my nose.." I mumble semi self-consciously. I had wanted to go for ass obviously but build up, people, build up. These were different times, different customs. Respect that.

"This way." Thorin instructs me rather gruffly and pulls me along behind him without another word.

Ah well. It was worth a shot. Next time. Next time. There was always a next time…

 _Ahem_.

You listening universe?

 _Because if you are you better make sure there'll be a next time if you know what's good for ya_!

Anyhow.

Now was not the time to rant at the stars for always placing me in these rotten so-close-but-yet-so-damnably-far-away situations. I had over a dozen dwarfs to find and rescue: not exactly and easy task when every step I took I half expected to walk into solid rock. Luckily Thorin was slightly ahead of me and as long as I couldn't hear him slamming into some kind of obstruction there was little for me to worry about except for trying not to trip over stones jutting out of the very badly carved path, scrape my shoulders against the wall on either side of me or bump my head against the low ceiling.

Too soon for my liking there were faint echoes of cries and shouts that grew louder and louder and it wasn't long before the end of the tunnel-like path we followed had flickering light cast on it from around the corner.

I instinctively slammed on the brake and crouched down, terrified of going any closer. No need to frown at that. Never said I was a hero.

Thorin, on the other hand, had the exact opposite reflex. He had sprinted forward like a prowling panther about to surprise his unsuspecting prey. But he was also still holding on to me. As the inevitable result of several unbreakable laws of physics the dwarf got yanked back and swiveled around. It was nothing short of a miracle he hadn't dislocated his shoulder with a loud _pop_ in the process.

"Ruby? What is it?" Thorin inquired in an urgent whisper and I could feel him getting down on one knee beside me, "Are you hurt?"

There is genuine worry as well as a hint of frustration in his tone.

I adamantly shake my head then quickly added a hurried 'no' in a small voice. I was thankful the scarce light prevented him from seeing the guilty look on my face. Nothing short of cowardice had me practically roll up like a ball in an attempt to make myself as small as possible. I was instantly ashamed that apparently my first reaction was to hide instead of fight.

I could feel Thorin's piercing gaze on me and I cast my eyes down even though I can barely distinguish my hands rubbing my thighs nervously.

There was a sudden increase in excited yipping and outraged shouts. Judging by the clanking sounds of metal on stone it's likely the few axes and maces some of the dwarves had actually managed to snatch in the chaos had now been taken and thrown on a big heap.

Thorin stirred, clearly impatient to act. And yet he hadn't risen to his feet. I could practically hear his thoughts grind as he surveyed me. As the truth sank in.

"Stay here." he eventually said, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder. The understanding clear in his tone cut me to the core. It was embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time that he didn't seem to judge me for cowering in the dark like a frightened little mouse.

 _I judged myself though_ …

And the preliminary verdict wasn't one I was sure I was willing to live with any longer.

"Thorin." I grab his tunic in an almost desperate sort of way. Poised to lunge forward he exerts an admirable amount of self-control to stay where he is a moment longer, one hand on the pommel of Orcrist the other ready to push himself off the floor.

Silence. Even the noises up ahead seemed drowned. Perhaps this was the first time I truly felt grateful towards the dwarf king. For not rushing me to speak my mind even in a sticky situation like this. For allowing me those precious seconds I needed to make your decision.

"I'll be right behind you."

Again a brief silence. The soft scraping of a boot and his shoulder bumping into mine as he leaned closer.

"Ruby." his earnest voice was a low, deep rumble, "There is no dishonor in remaining behind-"

As much as I appreciated the pep-talk I didn't let Thorin finish but instead unbent my knees and brushed passed him, groping around in my hoody's uni-pocket for my catapult. It felt like nothing more than a twig in my trembling hand right now. I could hear Thorin close on my heels. His sure and steady footfall bolstered my courage a little. It was still barely enough to keep me going.

When I was about to round the corner Thorin caught up to me and somehow managed to squeeze himself in front of me. Weapons raised the two of us burst into a den-like room packed with goblins who were in the middle of waving torches, spears and clubs at their captives.

In the following moment a lot of things happened at the same time and in such quick succession I wasn't sure what was happening exactly. For one I only caught a mere glimpse of the dwarves huddled together like a colony of penguins before a small, lump of a boulder blocked the way forward. Thorin expertly jumped over it as if obstacle run was something he did on a lazy day. I, however, felt my toes bump into it and I flailed my arms wildly about to keep y balance. Predictably I failed and was lunged forward with far greater speed than I'd initially had. The boulder came loose with the force of my fall and because of the momentum tumbled along with me down a side passage. The path was so steep there was no stopping myself and I rolled on despite my loud 'umphfs!', 'ouchs!' and 'urghs!'. The fact I couldn't see the world rapidly turning upside down and back didn't mean I didn't _feel_ it.

Bruised and dizzy I finally smack down hard and come to an abrupt standstill. So does the boulder. Raising myself on my hands and knees it hits me hard against my butt and emits a disgruntled groan and I end up face down again on the cold, slippery floor.

Wait.

 _Slippery_?

It couldn't be the rain. No way the storm could reach this deep into the mountain.

Also...

 _Groaning_ boulder?!

Before my brain can connect the dots a terrific _bang_ shudders the very earth underneath me. Next instant there is a flash of pale and yet bright light that dimly lights up the passage I just involuntarily tumbled down like a very disheveled Alice. Then the sound of what appears to be a thousand feet rushes towards me like a swelling and threatening wave of oncoming danger.

Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!

I scramble to my feet in a mad panic. Well. _Try_ to scramble to my feet would be a more accurate description. That boulder that had somehow magically groaned had now sprouted limbs. I only had time to utter a confounded 'What the- ' when I felt long, gnarly fingers close around my ankles like vines.

For the third time in a row I fall flat on my belly. All the air is forced out of my lungs at the impact. Gasping and thrashing about to free myself from the tiny, balloon shaped goblin that's trying to keep me down the volume of approaching mayhem grows louder at an alarmingly fast rate. I could even hear some of the dwarves calling out my name as they went. No matter how touched I was by their loyalty, I also kinda hated the little buggers for leading an entire army of very pissed off goblins my way when I was having more than enough trouble with just the one. _Thank you very fucking much_!

Gandalf appeared on the scene first, followed by thirteen very harassed and jumpy looking dwarves. They skidded to a halt and cast wild looks around in search of me now the path had leveled and the passage opened up in a broader, cavernous space. Not that I had realized this before now. Only because of the bright light on Gandalf's staff did I actually see my surroundings.

"Here- Hmpf! I'm here! Bwah!" I frantically called out to the dwarves, still wrestling with the soccer ball sized creature who just then pressed my face none too gently in what felt like mud.

Oh oh. Slippery _and_ muddy. I didn't like the possible implications of that. After all, there was only one place I could think of in this stinking maze of tunnels that would have both elements.

A handful of dwarves were on the verge of rushing over and come to your aid when their pursuers jumped at them out from the shadowy passage. Amidst all the battle cries, whip cracking and weapon clashing I knew there was no point in yelling for help. I would only waste energy that way. Energy that I needed to channel that inner ninja and throw off my cunning –but mostly just persisting- adversary.

"Waaaaaaah!" with absolutely no idea what I was doing I let out an enraged shout as I push myself off the ground, grasped the goblin by his scrawny elbow, swung it once in a circle above my head like a weird, misshaped lasso and let go. The goblin squealed in a tiny, shrill voice as it soared through the air, hit the ground and continued by rolling towards the others. Next instant he had bowled over at least five fellow goblins who grumpily rubbed their sore bottoms, backs, and heads as they slowly got to their feet afterwards. The same couldn't be said for the tiny goblin I had hurdled towards my enemy.

Clearly as disorientated as a drunk, one-eyed hedgehog, the round goblin tottered in all possible directions without really seeming to know or being able to determine in which direction it went. In all the tumult of the epic battle –undignified scuffle more like!- the undergrown creature threatened to be trampled by either dwarf or goblin.

As I watched it stumble along while it was being pushed and kicked out of the way my fear momentarily took a back seat and I made up my mind.

I don't really know what made me do it. Let alone why I did it. But seeing that was hardly out of character for me, I just did it anyway.

I sprint forward like a football player, duck my head and hide it in my crossed arms, then ram into first one, no, _two_ utterly bewildered goblins. Bewilderment was good. A more effective weapon than my half-ass tackles would ever be. Zigzagging through fighting dwarves and goblins I cover the remaining distance between me and the tiny creature. I scoop him up in my arms, cradling it to my chest as I try not to inhale its stench and then dash the whole way back again.

Puffing like a steam engine from the exertion I sink down on my knees and put down the goblin who blinks up at me, his overlong arms hanging limply on either side of his body that I only now realize is tilted because one leg is considerably shorter than the other. He staggers back a bit with a weird limp the inevitable result of his out of whack body proportions and simply continues to stare at me.

At that moment there is a loud crash and Gandalf's roaring voice bouncing off the bare walls makes it clear he just used a spell.

 _About damn time too_.

I swivel my head around to see what had happened. To my great relief the wizard's powerful explosion has caused the place where the passage opened up into the more spacious underground cave to collapse. And collapse on top of most of the goblins too. I could see Dwalin, Fili and Bofur making short work of the few that had survived the deadly rain of debris and then there was complete, oppressive silence and the wavering light shining forth from the stone on Gandalf's staff. Apparently with this last stunt he had possibly overdone it.

Muttering rather feverishly under his breath, the wizard swatted at the stone, banging the tip of his staff forcefully at the ground too, causing all of us to be intermittently plunged into total darkness whenever the source of light had sparks shooting out of it, spluttered in feeble protest then flickered out of existence.

 _Amateur._

In one such moment of complete blackness, I heard a sharp hissing followed by what sounded a lot like hands paddling almost soundlessly through water...

 _Crap, crap, crappy the crap!_

There was a dull thud of wood on stone as the wizard's staff hit the ground once more and white, bright light filled the cave, reflecting most notably off of two huge orbs that could've been car lights but obviously weren't. If only we'd be so lucky.

"W-What was that?" Dori stammered.

"Did you see that?" Fili asked needlessly to the group at large, every single one of us was looking nervously at the lake spreading out far beyond the shore we were grouped on.

"Is it a goblin?" Bofur offered.

"Could be a rat." Dwalin huffed out unconcernedly. He didn't fool me. He was so shitting his pants right now.

"A swimming rat?" Gloin repeated incredulously.

"It's a squid!" Kili piped up excitedly.

I face-palm myself in growing exasperation and despair. This was taking too long. We were potentially gonna be in so much trouble. Gollum might keep his distance now, observing us from the water and paddling up and down across the shoreline like he was auditioning for Baywatch-

 _Smeagol in a red speedo_.

No.

Just no.

Not gonna go there.

In any case, even though Gollum was advancing only slowly and cautiously because of our sheer numbers alone, once he figured out what a bunch of chickens these guys were that would make him change tactics in a flash.

"No. That is no goblin." Gandalf ponder out loud. He didn't sound scared. More like intrigued. Not good. Not good at all.

"Gandalf."

In nothing did the wizard show he had heard me.

"I wonder what creature has managed to survive down here."

"Gandalf."

No reaction.

"It must be able to catch fish. Slugs. Bats. The occasional goblin even.."

After this last suggestion I felt the tiny goblin, who had escaped everyone else's notice and was hiding right behind me, shiver violently from head to toe.

"Gandalf, I don't think-"

"Either way. It has found a way in."

OK. Clearly he was intentionally ignoring me.

"Gandalf. I _really_ -"

"And perhaps remembers the way out."

"Gan-"

"Now that would be very useful information."

"Gandalf."

"We should attempt to establish contact."

"Gandalf."

"You go and greet him." the wizard nudged his chin in Kili's direction whose face instantly split in an unnaturally broad grin.

"Gandalf-"

This time I was overridden by Thorin. Made for a nice change. Sort of.

"You really think this wise?"

Thorin eyed his youngest nephew, brows furrowed in concern. Kili's lower lip startled to tremble the way a toddler's would after being denied a new toy.

"Wise?" Gandalf repeated, almost in mockery because he either didn't know what the word meant or else that he found it grossly overrated.

"Considering our current predicament I would say that trying to find ourselves a guide that could lead us out of these mountains, to the _right_ side too, would be a very wise thing to do indeed."

He did love to hear himself talk, didn't he? Still sounded like a pretty dodgy plan to me. Besides I was uncomfortably close to changing a little too much about the future of Middle Earth. With Bilbo not here, I was pretty sure it was crucial none of these jokers found a certain bling.

Most of the dwarves seemed convinced by Gandalf. Even Thorin nodded eventually, albeit a little reluctantly.

"Well. Go on. Off you go!" the smug wizard urged Kili who set off like an energizer bunny with its fluffy tail on fire.

Yes. Brilliant. Let's talk to it. _Them_. I was sure a 500 year old systemic liar and friend-throttling sleemo with a personality disorder could be reasoned with. Might even point out some nice restaurants too with a bit of luck.

I huffed in annoyance and impatience, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I wasn't the only one that was feeling uneasy about this. Dwalin practically scowled, hand grasped tightly around his double-headed axe, while Balin looked apprehensive and Thorin appeared less than pleased too. The second in line to inheriting the throne, on the other hand, practically skipped towards Gollum who'd just slid smoothly on land with his canoe thingy.

Kili quickly glanced back over his shoulder at Gandalf who gave him the thumbs up and, quite frankly, looked over the moon with this opportunity to get himself a rare entry in his pokedex.

For a moment an awkward silence reigned supreme until Kili bowed a little clumsily then held out his hand.

"Hello there- AAAAAAARGH!" Kili yowled like a lone wolf, clutching his finger as if it was a wounded chick that had fallen out of the nest, "He bit me!"

 _Well that went wrong fast_.

"Told you he wouldn't make for a good pet." I remark wisely to no one in particular. Of course I hadn't in fact mentioned this out loud, but that was only because Gandalf had chosen to ignore me.

 _Oh_. _How he must regret that now_.

As if to proof how right I was Gollum hissed dangerously, bared his jagged teeth and his bulging eyes glinted maliciously.

That finally convinced Gandalf too.

"Run!"

"What he said!" I weigh in for good measure and pelt forward.

None of us make it far. The wistful light of Gandalf's staff extinguished without warning. Chaos ensued. Some dwarves were screaming like little girls; there was a lot of splashing and thrashing as Gollum no doubt had leapt out of his 'boat'; and literally everyone bumped into everyone else at least once. I could swear I collided up to four times with Bombur, but maybe that was just because he took up so much space. Long and short of it was that my toes were trod on numerous times, I'd received several elbows in the ribs and, to add insult to injury, I practically flattened my nose for life against Dwalin's broad and concrete-hard back.

"Perfect! Just perfect!" I exclaim slightly crazed, voice an octave higher than usual. Fear had been replaced by pure and burning annoyance.

"If it's all the same to you, then let's leave the real magic up to me from now on, shall we?!" I must sound deranged enough for all the dwarves to fall silent and even Gollum doesn't dare so much as a snarl. I whip out my phone from my back pocket and hit the torchlight.

It worked.

Despite the miserable 6 percent battery power, it _worked_.

To me it really felt like I'd just performed magic.

The vast, high-ceilinged underground cave lit up spectacularly, I could see the ripples shimmering on the deep lake and wet stone glistened like it was coated in crystals.

There were admiring 'oohs' and 'aahs' all around, I almost felt like I'd just plugged in the Christmas tree.

The light also revealed just how close Gollum was to me. Or me to him. Same thing really.

I let out an earsplitting yell and stumble backwards, phone threatening to escape out of my grip. I fumble to catch it, miss each time, and it splashes with a strangely beautiful arch in the lake.

"Out of my way!" I roughly push Gollum to the side, barely noticing his agonized wailing nor even suspecting the reason for it.

I dive down like I'm trying to reach home-base and end up belly down on a flat rock that juts out a bit over the edge of the water. Bending forward as much as I can I peer down and spot the illuminated rectangular sinking rapidly. In horror I stare transfixed at the pale screen set to its Your Royal Nakedness wallpaper and as it grows smaller so does my hope of retrieving it. It was worse than Leonardo Di Caprio going popsicle. No offence. But seriously. A _lot_ worse.

What was more, with my phone disappearing into the depths of the lake, so did the light it had produced. Just before all of it was swallowed up by the dark water my eyes were drawn to a sliver of a warmer hue.

Something shiny.

Something round.

Something enticing.

Something oddly _familiar_ …

The dwarves had decided they'd had enough and busied themselves with locating each other and linking hands, counting each member found and added as they went. Judging by the angry but also frustrated hissing Gollum hadn't been able to get passed them.

That gave me a split second to decide.

No time at all really.

But I decided.

With a due sense of trepidation I thrust my arm up to my elbow in the ice cold water and close my fingers around something solid and surprisingly heavy.

 _Oh boy._

 _I'd really done it now_ …


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Having lost all sense of direction at birth, I simply hobble along, hand tightly clutched in Balin's, the other checking again and again whether a small, round object didn't fall out of my pocket.

Bringing up the rear wasn't exactly my idea of fun in a dark, drafty, filthy maze of goblin-made tunnels, but technically I wasn't the last one in the chain.

The moment we had all polonaised the hell away from that underground lake, Dwalin fortunately having the brains to knock Gollum out cold with a well placed if not extremely lucky kick, the little goblin had crawled up my leg, climbed my backpack like it was Mount Everest, and settled itself on top of it, long arms wrapped around my neck.

But it wasn't clinging on to me in an attempt to choke me from behind. Instead, I suspected it was half intending to hitch a ride and half intending to show me the way. Apparently it could see a lot better in the dark. And it was obviously more familiar with all of these crisscrossing, winding paths too. Soon I realized that with every yip or squeal it gave it was trying to give me a hint, _not_ betray my location to fellow goblins. It wasn't hard to guess which meant left or right as the creature also very helpfully leaned in the intended direction as it let out the screechy sounds.

I relayed the directions in staccato, monosyllabic shouts though it took my companions, in particular Gandalf who was at the lead, a while to catch on. Unable to see where I got my information from it nevertheless turned out that following my drill-sergeantesque instructions provided a goblin-free, up-sloping route while ignoring them got all of us stuck at dead ends and in the way of the occasional scout who the dwarves only just in time hacked to pieces before it could alert others.

My trust in the little guy piggy-back riding along eventually paid off. All of us burst into a guard room that was teeming with activity. Activity that stilled completely the moment we arrived. What must be a hundred or more armed-to-the-teeth goblin warriors turned to face us as one.

Timing.

 _Why did it always come down to timing_?

Could have been an early Monday morning with more than half the warriors ignoring alarm clocks or snoozing in denial of the weekend having come to an end. Instead it was more like a Friday afternoon on which everyone was so high on caffeine to make up for sleeping in at the beginning of the week that I was surprised these goblins weren't bouncing off the walls.

Either way. Despite the bad timing we should've either chosen a different exit or wasted less time down at the lake. Totally blamed Gandalf for the latter. He just _had_ to go all Janeway on us: 'Captain! Captain! We've discovered an alien life form that has superior brainpower, ten arms, more teeth than twelve sharks combined, _and_ has a black belt at karate…Do we shoot it?' 'Negative. Open up a channel. He clearly just wants to talk.' 'Uh.. Say again, Captain?' 'You heard me.' '…Opening up a chan- Aaaaargh!' _CHOMP!_ _CHOMP! CHOMP! CHOMP!_

Meanwhile, back at the plot, the massive shape of the goblin king bore down on all of us, cleaving through the sea of goblins like a battle cruiser through ice.

"Whatever you do, just don't sing on us, yeah?" I shout over the heads of the dwarves gathered in front of me, some of whom glance over their shoulders frowning and looking utterly non-plussed.

"He knows what I'm talking about." I assured them confidently, "I swear, if any of you clowns even think of turning this into a musical I'll show you just how much down down down goblin town _really_ is-"

"Who are you?!" the goblin king demanded, towering over all of us and his staff pointing down at me so the goat's skull on top is inches from poking my eyes out.

"Um.. Not the droids you're looking for?" I shrug innocently but apparently this mother of all blobs was part Toydarian instead of Hutt. _I should seriously stop judging a book by its cover!_

" _You_ came looking for _me_ , human!" the humongous crown-wearing fat stain spat accusingly, giving you a rough prod with his staff, the skull effectively knocking the air out of your lungs.

It all went downhill from there pretty damn fast. Thorin stepped out of the group to confront the huge goblin, suggesting it should pick a fight with someone his own size. A pretty ludicrous idea except if I took egos into account. In that case Thorin wouldn't even have to break a sweat.

Doubled over with my hands on my knees while I gulped for oxygen, I hardly caught what the goblin king said in return. Something to do with balls. I failed to see why they didn't realize now wasn't exactly the time to talk sports. Luckily the other dwarves shared a few more brain cells between them. They let out cries of outrage and shook angry fists at the goblin king. Kili simply kicked him against the shins then lifted his chin so high it was almost vertical as he let out a superior 'hmpf!'.

"Get them! Rip them apart! Kill them all!" the goblin king shrieked in fury, clutching one leg closer to himself in order to nurse it and hopping rather precariously on the other.

All hell broke loose. I was pushed around by dwarves as well as goblins, the former in an attempt to protect you, the latter to separate me from my companions and lop my head off. Lovely. The perfect end to a perfect day.

Dropping to my knees, squeezing my eyes tight shut and covering my ears with my hands I'm halfway to my happy place when I feel the goblin on my back stir. Next moment it raps its knuckles on my head. I ignore it and repress a yelp. It repeats the process. And again. Clearly it was trying to get my attention.

"Ouch!"

Clearly it wasn't going to give up by me ignoring it either.

" _What_?" I hiss through gritted teeth and sulkily rub the crown of my head.

The little goblin slid into view, hanging deftly around my neck like a spider monkey. Looking meaningfully at me he subsequently pointed first at himself then at the goblin king who was dueling both Gandalf and Thorin at the same time. When he tucked his knees into his bulbous body I finally understood.

"You're volunteering to be a bowling ball? _Again_?" I check, brows arching in disbelief.

The little goblin nods fervently, jabs a long crooked finger at the massive door just behind the even bulkier goblin king and finishes by making a weird turning motion with its balled fist in mid-air. It takes me a few seconds longer to realize it's mimicking opening a lock with an invisible key. The visible version of which I spot dangling from a frayed belt that only just held an even smudgier loincloth in place.

"You sure about this?"

Again an overly enthusiastic nod.

"All righty." I stretch my legs, wring my hands in preparation and squint my eyes to calculate the right trajectory, "Up and away, then, buddy!"

Rolled up like an ugly, fleshy, warty ball, the tiny goblin soared through the air as graceful as a ballet dancer, the six greasy hairs that still clung to his bald skull streaking behind him.

In his landing he spectacularly bowled over a handful of other goblins and tumbled along a little bit further until it passed right under the goblin king. It snatched something, bumped right into the wall where it lay all crumpled, a rusty key clutched tight in his tiny fist.

It hadn't gone unnoticed. The goblin king was distracted for a split second. A split second too long. Gandalf rushed forward to poke the king in the eye with his staff and Thorin slashed his large belly before the wizard finished it with a fell swipe of Glamdring across the jugular.

The ground underfoot shook as the dead body of the goblin king toppled over like a broken tank. All of his hunchbacked, lump-riddled subjects were instantly in an uproar. This also meant that their attack-mode conveniently switched to panic-mode.

Taking advantage of the confusion I sprint alongside the dwarves for the only way out of this mess. The tiny goblin throws me the key, I catch it and ram it in the lock, turn it, then leave Bofur and Bifur to push it wide open.

I cast a final glance over my shoulder, at the goblins milling about like ants that forgot the way back to the colony, wailing and shrieking. On the verge of whipping back around to actually see where I'm running my heart skips a beat as I spot Gollum, skulking and peering around the opening of the passage leading back down to his lake. Even from this distance the hatred and agony in his eyes freezes my blood, but it mingles with such a heart wrenching despair that I wonder if this was what had caused Bilbo to pity the unhappy creature. I would never truly know. The hobbit wasn't here. Moreover, topping any hint of sympathy a healthy dose of self-preservation instinct quickly took over the wheel again.

We all spill outside, one by one, not breaking our stride and hurtling down the steep slope of the mountainside. My eyes hurt as daylight floods my vision for the first time in hours, possible a day or longer. I only slow down when I notice how light the weight on my shoulders has become. And that didn't have anything to do with the reinvigorating sense of our regained freedom.

 _Bowling ball goblin!_

I skid to a halt and swivel around. _There_! It's got one foot on the threshold, the other just over it. The parallel with how I'd hesitated in a similar fashion was almost ironic. Although the situation was reversed of course. I hadn't wanted to go in. The tiny goblin wasn't sure if it had the guts to leave.

But he'd helped us. Had repaid its debt to me. Which in turn meant it couldn't possibly stay with its kin. The other goblins would kill him for sure.

Knowing I can't afford to wait much longer I hold out a hand, fingers sprawled wide in what I hope it'll recognize as an encouraging gesture. It got the hint. With a determined look screwing up its ugly face it wobbled in my direction as fast as his uneven legs could carry him. I hurriedly hoist it up and it perches Yoda style on my shoulders as I sprint on.

In the mad rush down the pine-tree and rubble covered mountainside no one notices the stowaway. Even when we finally stop to catch our breaths in a small clearing not a single dwarf spots the little goblin.

Fili, being after all the crown prince, claimed the task of doing a head count –much to his younger brother's disappointment- and ended up counting and recounting always with one too many. I'm this close to clear up the mystery but the dumbfounded look on his face and Kili counting with him under his breath is just too damn funny to watch. None of the others intervene either, mostly because they're too occupied to clutch at stitches in their sides, pick out leaves and grit in their beards and retie loose bootlaces. It was all a little too B-team for my taste to be honest.

"Don't move!" Dwalin suddenly barked, making everyone nearly jump out of their skin. Then they all looked at me in horror.

"Wha- _Oh sweet Jesus!_ " I raise my hands in surrender, eyes wide and rooted to the spot as the burly warrior raises his axe and comes right at me.

The tiny goblin gives a frightened squeal but then slides down my arm and stands between me and the oncoming killing machine, fists waving in an impeccable Frankendoodle imitation. I wasn't sure though if it would be enough to stop the mustached T-Rex heading my way.

"Wait!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, sidestepping the goblin jumping up and down at my feet like a kangaroo readying himself for a bar fight.

Wait! Just wait!" I tried again but to little avail, Dwalin had obviously gone into red-zone. _Typical_.

"He's on our side you nitwitted hooligan!"

That stopped him. Just in time too.

"B-but.. But.." Dori stammered in repulsion, "It's hideous!"

"Easily fixed." I tell him, demonstratively crouching down to press my hand down into the mud before I transfer it to the creature's pockmarked face.

 _Hmm_.

Not exactly the effect I was going for.

 _And make-overs always looked so easy on TV!_

"Um…" I drawl, eyeing the goblin as it blinks back at me. It looked like an ugly, dirty volleyball. A slightly cross-eyed, possibly traumatized, ugly, dirty volleyball with a hand print across its face-

 _Oh no I didn't!_

Throwing both arms into the air in supreme victory I jump to my feet in exulted excitement.

"Wilson!"

I felt like Dr. Frankenstein looking down at his puke-inducing creation. Wilson just beamed back. Dwalin ruined the moment. _Again_.

He was halfway a deadly swing of his axe when I fixed him with my best death glare to date.

"If you dare hurt my Willy I'll personally chop yours off!" I bellowed, eyes popping madly.

No man ever failed to shudder at that particular threat. Dwalin wasn't an exception. The dwarves and Gandalf all adopted a personal variation of a deeply felt 'yikes!' expression but there was no time for further introductions when an ear-grating howling rents the air.

"Yes! Frying pan! We know!" I yell in Thorin's direction as I hurdle passed him, not of a mind to wait for the dwarf king and wizard to finish each other's proverbs. _Yegh_. The only thing worse was retired couples wearing the same outfits on a hike.

Wilson also hadn't needed more of an incentive to give in to his flight reflex. He had already climbed back onto me and sat atop my backpack, fearful eyes trained on the wolves that came racing down the mountainside towards all of us.

Our enemy already gaining on us our way forward was limited to the edge of a dazzlingly deep ravine.

Right.

That was it then.

 _Why had I even bothered hoping this part wasn't going to happen exactly like it had in the book and the movie?_

 _Why hadn't I put my foreknowledge to good use and thought of a plan to tackle all of these obstacles?_

 _I'd had weeks in Rivendell, for crying out loud!_

 _Weeks?!_

"Climb into the trees! Hurry! Climb!" Gandalf ordered. The fact even he sounded panicky only made me feel more scared.

Grazing my palms against the rough bark I nevertheless manage to clamber my way up to a thick branch. After an approving nod of Thorin in his nephews' direction –they had done most of the work and hoisted me into the tree with them- Fili and Kili perched on either side of me. A moment longer we just sat there like three weird birds on a row but then the wolves came crashing into the trees that harbored me and my companions.

Bark and pine-needles were flying everywhere. The trees creaked and swayed with the violent impacts of wolves slamming against them. Knowing what's in store I mentally prepare myself to hop from one tree to the next when with a resounding _snap_ our tree succumbs to the barrage of attacks. The tree I land in is also soon felled; one by one all of them topple like domino stones. Me, Wilson, the dwarves and Gandalf all end up in that tall pine tree just at the edge of the ravine.

Again. A plan would've been nice.

There is something missing though.

Some _one_.

I crane my neck, eyes shooting wildly from left to right.

 _Where in the blazes was that damn orc?!_

The tree creaks as it slants backward, its roots bare and snapping one by one. There is a collective gasp followed by frantic 'aaaaaahs!' that could've made it seem we were enjoying a thrilling roller-coaster ride were it not for the accompanying prayers and curses.

… _OK_.

That still made it sound like we were enjoying a thrilling roller-coaster ride. But we weren't. Just to be clear on that. Every single one of us was screaming like a little girl at the prospect of falling to our deaths. And falling a looooong way by the looks of it too.

I feverishly locate Gandalf two branches above me but he's screaming along as hard as everyone else. I better give him a hint. Time was seriously running out.

"Oh! If only we had fire, the one thing wolves fear above all else!" I exclaim theatrically.

Gandalf froze, his mouth still agape but no longer with any sound coming out. It almost looked comical. It could be an exact replica of that weird scream painting. Then the lightbulb went on and he snatched a nearby pinecone to ignite it with his staff.

Genius, Gandazzle, genius.

 _How does he think of it?_

I inwardly roll your eyes as the dwarves whoop, cheer and pat the wizard on the back for 'his' quick thinking.

Soon burning pine-cones rain down on the wolves until the dry grass catches fire and a protective wall of flame keeps the enraged beasts trapped on the other side.

Well.

 _Protective_.

That would very much depend on your definition of the word.

In any case, there was no way I was going to wait for Azog to show up. If he didn't want a spot in the end credits. Fine. _His_ loss.

 _The question was would I dare risk gambling on the fact Gandalf would remember to call in air support or had I better give him another obvious hint?_

At that moment a screech mingled with the howling and snarling of wolves and the cheering dwarves.

 _Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!_

Great wings whipped up powerful, currents of hot air, sparks were flying around like snowflakes but then upwards as if someone had turned off gravity. Flames licked higher but not at us or the trees we perched in. The wolves' furs caught fire, causing them to yelp and flee. Huge shadows zoomed passed overhead, talons the size of a full-grown human scooped up the remaining wolves and threw them over the edge.

Well.

You know the scene.

Very different to be in it. Not watch it. It was nothing short of a nightmare.

One by one the dwarves were picked up by the eagles. Shakily I rose, arms wrapped around the thick bark of the pine tree. Almost all the roots had snapped. It was going to fall any second now.

I look up as an airbus with feathers flies over, the tip of its wing brushing against my head. Suddenly I wasn't quite sure I wanted to travel that way.

Yeah. That fire didn't look that-

 _Awww!_

 _Hot hot hot hot!_

I pull up my foot again so it's out of reach of the hungry flames that had started to devour the pine tree by now.

"You must let go!" Thorin bellowed at me from the other side of the bark. It looked like he wouldn't do so himself before I had. Us two were the last ones remaining. Well, us _three_ , technically. The goblin on my back wiggled nervously but I patted it once on its balding head. Released the tree from my chokehold on it. Took a deep, steadying breath…

 _And jumped_.


End file.
